A Dreary Tale of Katelyn Potter
by FenneHP
Summary: Katelyn Potter, the 'Girl Who Lived', is miserable at Hogwarts. She's ignored, or despised and looked down on - so she decides to leave it all behind and join the only two people who ever loved her. However, her attempt to take her own life fails, and she's left to pick up the pieces. TW: Suicide attempt in 1st chapter. Mentions of abuse. !femharry
1. Chapter 1

Katelyn decided that tonight was going to be the night. It came to her quite naturally. She'd been wondering when she would know it was the proper time, and now, looking around the abandoned classroom, it was clear. It felt perfectly right. For the first time in her life, the way forward was crystal clear.

She surveyed the empty, cobweb riddled bookshelves and dimly flickering torches one last time before she set to work unfurling the tangle of rope that she had dragged out of the broom closet. She didn't know what the rope was doing there (she suspected it was a remnant of what Filch often called the 'good old days') but she took it as a sign that she was following the right path.

She was glad that she had been given the invisibility cloak. It had given her the chance to see her parents, to confirm her suspicion that she didn't belong at Hogwarts. There was a reason that no one liked her, or talked to her, or wanted anything to do with her. Why her relatives hated her, and hit her, and did other awful things.

She wasn't meant to be here. She was meant to be with them.

Katelyn was tired of faking it, tired of pretending. Tired of Hermione feeling obligated to act like her friend just because she had accidentally helped her on Halloween. Tired of Ron acting like he wasn't just letting her follow him around out of pity. The feeling of receiving her first and only proper Christmas gifts out of pity still made her feel sick to the core.

After Dumbledore caught her looking at the mirror, he'd told her that there was no way to bring her parents back. She'd heard, and she'd understood. It wasn't about bringing them back to her - it was about finding her way back to them. And she didn't care to wait. There was nothing for her here. There never had been, and never would be.

After the students had returned, and the term resumed, it had never been more clear that she didn't belong. Every day was agony, plodding back and forth between classes, forcing food down her throat, trying to make herself useful at practice, trying to remember the muscles that resembled a smile. She was sick of smiling.

And what good would magic do her in an empty world, anyway? She'd have been just as well off at Stonewall. Better, in fact, since the Dursleys probably would have helped her.

So with one desk stacked atop another, and a few knots that she had spent night after night practicing in secret, she was ready. She gave a strong tug to ensure the chandelier would hold before returning the desks to their original positions, climbing atop a chair, and slipping the noose over her neck.

She had initially thought that jumping from the astronomy tower would have been easier, but eventually decided that would have been far too messy. Likewise, cutting herself would have been painful and gruesome, and drowning was utterly terrifying. Poison was too risky to obtain, but it would have probably been much more pleasant.

So, hanging it was. With her mind resolute, and with a final, great sigh, she kicked the chair away and fell.

Despite her best efforts, dying turned out to be incredibly painful. The rope was supposed to kill her in one clean snap - she must not have left enough slack, and her neck had not broken like it was meant to. Despite herself, her hands flew to her throat in a desperate, instinctual rage to free herself. Her consciousness knew that she wanted to die even now, but her body would not release as frail fingers clutched at the rope that slowly choked her life away.

She mustered every ounce of willpower to stop struggling against the explosive pressure building in her head. She was ready for this. The pain would only last another minute. There was a note under her pillow if anyone cared to look.

The lights began to fade. It was her time. At last.

* * *

Severus did not have time to be angry. When the Bloody Baron had appeared in his quarters to interrupt his sleep, shouting about a student that was attempting to hang themselves, he did not even have time to ask where. He'd simply summoned his cloak and taken off at a sprint after the shimmery white contrails of the Baron, who was already flying down the corridors at breakneck speed.

Severus tried not to be surprised, as a general life policy. When he arrived, panting for breath, to the sight of Katelyn Potter dangling lifelessly from a dusty chandelier, there was nothing but cold, jagged shock.

He did not have time to be angry that she would do something so mind-numbingly stupid - no, she could be lectured for days on end provided he still had the chance to save her life.

He bounded into the room, already reaching out to slice the rope apart with his wand, and he caught her in his arms, carefully lowering her to the floor, before sending a patronus to Madam Pomfrey, in case the Baron was not already alerting her.

After the noose was carefully cut away, he felt for a pulse, only to find to his horror that there wasn't even the faintest of a flutter. Her skin was white as a sheet, save for the deep purple bruises already forming around her neck. Her expression was sickeningly peaceful, and he couldn't bear to look any longer.

"Rennervate," he said tightly, his mind going blank with panic, leaving him unable to recall if the spell would even work at this point. What else would help? He couldn't bloody remember a single spell. He was panicking, like he had not done for years.

In a fit of desperation, he bent down to begin performing muggle CPR. Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, he might have thought how utterly ironic it was, as he pinched her nose shut and tried to force air into her lungs. At the fore of his mind, however, was a singular thought: _How could he have failed Lily so miserably, so spectacularly?_

He had pledged his life to protect the Potter child in her memory, and now Katelyn Potter lie dead at his feet. He wanted to cry for the first time in a long, long while, but he would not let himself, as he began delivering chest compressions and trying to recall exactly how fast one was supposed to apply them.

Though Severus was not keeping track, he would continue to apply CPR for well over five minutes.

When Madam Pomfrey finally reached the dungeons, gasping for breath, it was to find Severus Snape holding a sobbing Katelyn Potter in his arms. She would never have imagined she would see the day that he showed concern for another student, let alone the bizarre sight before her, but after a letting out a weak sigh of relief that was barely audible between her labored breaths, she simply said, "Well, come along, then. We'd best use your floo, Severus."

He nodded tightly, before carefully adjusting the frail little girl in his arms and following along after her.

She didn't get a proper look at the girl until Severus carefully lowered her onto one of the beds. Pomfrey instinctually moved to cast her most trusted charms, gently sussing out what injuries needed attending most.

When she had finished assessing her condition, she was surprised to realize that Severus was still standing at her bedside. His expression was frozen, tight with worry as he stared down at her.

"Severus, you'd best take a seat," she said gently, effectively rousing him from his stupor.

He simply nodded, and conjured a chair on the spot, sinking into it with a deep sigh, putting his face into his hands.

Katelyn was still sobbing softly into the pillows.

"Alright dear," Pomfrey said, stooping down to Katelyn's level and putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. She was concerned to see the girl flinched, even now.

"I'll need you to just hold still for a moment," she said softly. "Professor Snape cast some very good numbing charms, but you did a real number on your throat. You may still feel some pain. I promise I'll try to make it quick. Alright?"

Katelyn didn't respond, but Pomfrey wasn't about to let her go on with a crushed airway for longer than necessary, and so she quickly cast an obscure set of charms that would bind and repair her throat in a trice. The feeble cry of pain as the charm snapped her throats tissues back together tore at Pomfrey's heartstrings, but it had to be done.

Once more she reached out to brush a hand across her shoulder.

"There there, dear," she said, frowning when Katelyn briefly twitched away from her hand again. "All done."

Just then, a clicking latch and hurried clapping of footsteps announced the arrival of McGonagall and Dumbledore to the hospital wing. She quickly conjured privacy curtains before going to meet them.

"Tell me it isn't true, Poppy!" Minerva said through teary eyes. She was still in her nightgown. The headmaster was calmer, but likewise looked deeply saddened. "How could we never have noticed?!"

"There there, Minerva," Albus said, squeezing her arm. "There will be time for appointing blame and righting wrongs later. For now, we need to ensure that she is okay. Is there anything we can do to help, Poppy?"

The Matron shook her head.

"Physically, she will have some lingering damage, but otherwise she is healthy and stable. Her mental health, however, it remains to be seen."

Minerva sniffled into her sleeve, and Albus draped a comforting arm over her shoulder.

"I have not had a chance to speak with her yet. Severus was there. He saved her life, but I can only assume they didn't talk. I think it's best we give her some time before asking any questions."

"But do we know why she would do such a thing? I though she was doing so much better," McGonagall said, wiping her eyes.

"I'm afraid I have a guess," Albus said. "But I agree that it's best we wait until Katelyn has had a chance to rest off a rather dreadful night."

"I suppose you're right," she relented, turning to Severus, who was still seated, staring at the closed curtain. "I can watch her tonight, Severus. You should get some rest."

He blinked in surprise, as if he hadn't noticed them there until just now. He shook his head slightly, and some of the haunted expression was siphoned away from his face. He was further surprised upon standing, when he received a crushing hug from the head of Gryffindor house.

"Thank you for saving her, Severus," she said, ignoring his awkward stillness. "I don't dare imagine what might have happened if you hadn't been there in time."

Severus nodded. He had, naturally, been doing almost nothing but imagining what would have happened had he arrived even a few moments later. Regardless of the outcome, he was already growing more conscious of how clearly it was affecting him by the second, and he had no desire to garner any pity from his colleagues.

Albus, put a firm hand on his shoulder as he went for the door.

"I would like to take over your class, Severus," he said in a tone that was infuriatingly kind and yet left no room to argue. "At least for tomorrow. You deserve some rest, and I should think that there will be quite a house cup upheaval if you're unleashed upon the students in this state."

Severus just nodded, ignoring the attempt to lighten the mood. He would need time to sleep off the inevitable hangover, so he didn't argue.

"Goodnight, my boy."

He simply nodded once more, and left for his quarters.

With Snape gone, the headmaster and McGonagall held a hushed discussion, deciding that they wouldn't make any announcements to the school just yet. It took a mighty effort to talk Minerva down from waking her entire house at three in the morning and shouting herself hoarse, but in the end they decided that Katelyn deserved privacy most of all, and that reckonings could be delivered another time.

The girl in question had fallen asleep through her tears, and was now curled up on the bed, looking oh so small and frail. Albus volunteered to watch her for the night, sending the two women to get a last few hours of fitful rest before classes resumed.

* * *

Katelyn was too tired to cry properly anymore. Her eyes stung, but she couldn't keep them closed. Her mind was spinning, a slow, drunken waltz, that was both manic and mournful. She didn't know what would happen to her. What they would do with her, where they would send her. What would happen when the rest of the school found out, as it surely would.

Would they laugh? Would they despise her? She wondered if it was like in the muggle world, where no one really wanted to talk about such things. She doubted she would be so lucky.

Her miserable, fitful stupor was interrupted by soft footsteps approaching her bed.

"Katelyn," came the delicate voice of the headmaster. "Would you mind talking with me for a while?"

She was relieved that he didn't sound angry, at least. Snape had seemed livid with her - she remembered the blazing look in his eyes as she had regained consciousness, and forced the resulting shudder down her weary spine.

Dumbledore slowly made his way past the privacy curtain, and settled himself into a chair before her. She couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Katelyn, oh Katelyn …" he said miserably. "In a thousand lifetimes, I could never apologize enough for letting it come to this."

She furrowed her brow, and squinting her bloodshot eyes. Why would he be apologizing to her?

"I had believed that, after seeing your parents in the mirror, you might have found a beacon of light and hope. It seems instead I simply allowed you to be tempted by the dark. And for that, I am so utterly, desperately sorry."

He sniffled, and she thought for a moment that he might have been crying. She couldn't look. Couldn't get her eyes to focus.

"Had I known how bad it was for you, my dear, dear child … oh I've been a fool. I thought that perhaps you would find strength … become forged in the fires of adversity … "

She heard him sniffle.

"The only thing I could do to further prove how little intelligence I possess would be to hope that you might ever forgive me for allowing you to suffer as I have done …"

"So you knew about everything … " she croaked weakly, finally finding her voice.

"I had an idea that you were not well liked by some, yes, but my frail old mind simply refused to imagine it could be so terrible. Though even now I do not know the particulars of the abuses you have suffered while under my care, rest assured that I will do everything in the considerable scope of my power to ensure that you are made to feel at home here at Hogwarts. Perhaps I have given you no reason to trust that I will honor my word … but simply allow me one single chance, and I will not fail you again, Katelyn."

"I … I don't want that. I just want to be with my parents. I hate it here, I hate waking up … being alive … I don't want any of it."

Dumbledore hung his head.

"I see," he breathed. "I take it that … given the opportunity, you might attempt to … reunite with them once more?"

Katelyn felt her eyes burning more harshly now. She longed to disappear, to stop everything from hurting. She was tired of lying.

"Yes. I'd still do it again."

"I appreciate your honesty with me, Katelyn," he said. "Hopefully you can understand that we cannot allow you to harm yourself further."

" … I know."

"I will have Poppy see to you in a moment. Thank you, Katelyn, my dear child, for allowing an old man to bear his guilty conscience to you. I will not fail you again."

She watched him go without saying a word.

* * *

At breakfast, McGonagall was so lost in thought and worry that she didn't notice a disheveled, pajama-clad Hermione Granger sprinting towards the head table.

"Professor McGonagall!" she wheezed, leaning on the head table for support, gasping for air, "Katelyn - she - come quick!"

There was a note clutched in her hand, tears streaming down her pale face.

"Come with me Miss Granger," McGonagall instructed gently, ushering her off into a side room. Though the great hall was mostly empty this early, she had the eyes of every student and professor in the room, save Snape, who was likely still asleep in his quarters.

"There's - there's no time - she's -"

"It's alright, Hermione. Katelyn is alright."

McGonagall closed the door behind them, and, on second thought, conjured a pair of slippers for Hermione, who had apparently been in such a hurry that she hadn't thought to put on her own.

"Does that mean that she really - did she … she really …"

"Have a seat, Hermione," she said, gesturing for her to put the slippers on. "Did she tell you what she was planning?"

"No!" Hermione cried, aghast. "I didn't think she would ever - … I … I went to wake her up and she wasn't there! I found this under her pillow!"

She handed over the single, small sheet of parchment, on which was neatly scrawled a hauntingly short message.

" _To whomever,_

 _I have gone to join my parents. My body will be in an old classroom in the dungeons. "_

As McGonagall looked over the note a second time, Hermione began crying in earnest, and she bent down to hug the frightened girl.

"There there, Hermione. She's going to be just fine. She's resting in the hospital wing as we speak."

"I was s-so afraid," she sobbed. "I hadn't seen her since dinner last night - I w-was certain it was going to be t- t-too late…"

"You did the right thing, coming to me as soon as you could. Don't blame yourself, dear."

"But it … it is m-my fault! I should have noticed something was wrong - I thought everything was getting better …"

"Getting better?"

McGonagall conjured a small table, and a tea set, offering a cup to Hermione.

"We … we didn't get along, before Halloween," she admitted sullenly. "I … wasn't very nice to her. I don't think a lot of people have been been very nice to her. But when she saved my life, on Halloween, I realized that I was being so awful …"

"So you thought what was getting better, exactly?"

Hermione stared down at her conjured slippers, dragging her toes back and forth below the chair.

"Well, when I finally got to know her, it was pretty obvious that she was depressed. We weren't very nice to her for a long time. The Quidditch team picks on her … the other girls and I teased her … the other houses too … but I thought it was getting better."

She took a moment to steady her breath, while McGonagall was trying not to show anger hearing that her team was still being cruel to her after the talking-to she'd given them months ago.

"Ron and I were keeping an eye on her, making sure she ate properly … she accidentally told us that she'd never gotten a Christmas present before, so we even got her some gifts. She really seemed to be doing okay. Now I don't know what to think."

"Well, it was very good of you to look after her like that, Hermione. But why didn't you come to me if you were concerned?"

Hermione blanched, and began fidgeting with her pajama bottoms. She had yet to drink any of the tea.

"I'm not angry," she insisted. "I'd just like to know if there was a reason you thought you couldn't bring your concerns to me."

"I was worried that if I told you … Katelyn would find out. She isn't very trusting. It took her ages just to get her to believe that I really wanted to be her friend, not that I blame her after how mean I was."

"Trust issues?"

"Yes, professor. I almost thought she would never open up. But after a few weeks, she would start talking a little here and there. We really … we really thought it was getting better."

"There there," McGonagall told the girl who was only growing more and more upset as she talked. "You haven't done anything wrong. How would you like to come up and see if you can't visit her for a little? I'm sure it would mean a lot to her."

Hermione nodded sadly, wiping her nose on her sleeve until McGonagall conjured her a handkerchief.

"I'd like to see her."

* * *

"I don't want to see her."

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, dear. She's just been worried about you."

"Sure."

She realized that Madam Pomfrey wouldn't understand her sarcasm, but the matron was already crossing the ward to bring her over. Dammit. All too suddenly, Hermione was standing at her bedside. She wished she'd thought to adjust her pajamas to hide the scar on her neck, but it would be far too obvious now.

"Katelyn…"

"You didn't have to come."

"I wanted to come. I wanted to make sure you're okay."

Katelyn shook her head.

"No. You don't have to pretend anymore. I'm done pretending."

"What … what do you mean?"

"You don't have to keep acting like you want to be my friend. I think we've moved past that."

"Katelyn … I am your friend. Ron and I care about you," Hermione said weakly, sounding hurt.

"Please. Stop this. No one starts caring about someone over a single night."

"Is that what this is about? You risked your life so I could get away. You opened my eyes … made me see how terrible I was being. I care about you because I finally had to face reality and see that you're a good person … I was jealous … I … Katelyn … look at me. Katelyn … just look at me."

"I don't want to do this anymore. I just can't do it anymore."

By now, both girls were crying, and Madam Pomfrey finally decided to intervene, gently taking Hermione by the arm and steering her into a chair on the far end of the wing.

"Why won't she believe me?!" she pleaded. "What did I do wrong?"

Pomfrey sighed deeply. Her world was broken limbs and cursed boils. They didn't teach a class on this kind of thing.

"I've spoken with her some, about why she did it," she said, placing a gentle hand on her Hermione's arm. "She's not in a very good place right now, dear. It's not unusual for a person with low self esteem to be unable to accept that someone else would care about them. I admit, I am surprised she hid it so well … but you mustn't be hard on yourself. I doubt she blames you more than anything or anyone else."

Hermione looked up, tears still glistening in her eyes.

"What do I do? How can I make things better?"

"Just be there for her dear. We'll see to her wellbeing, but in time, she'll need to find it in herself to truly believe she's loved. And all you can do is try."

Hermione nodded in resolution.

"I will try. Can I say goodbye?"

"Yes, but it's best you make it brief."

She nodded once more, and returned to Katelyn's bedside, trying to act calmer than she felt. Katelyn didn't turn over to look as she approached, but Hermione soldiered on.

"Katelyn, I just wanted to say … I'm really sorry, for everything. All of it. Madam Pomfrey told me that you might have a hard time believing me, that I really am your friend … so … if there's something I can do to show you that I really do care, just tell me, when you're ready."

She sighed, wishing it was easier to talk to her backside and pretend it was helping.

"Anyhow, I'll come visit you after class, if that's alright." She waited a moment, but, if her friend was listening, she didn't object. "I'll see you again soon, Katelyn."

* * *

Knock knock.

"Oh, hello Miss Granger, Mister Weasley. I'm sorry to say that Miss Potter is asleep at the moment. She's just had a round of potions, so she'll likely be out for a few hours. You might try back tomorrow, in the morning."

"O-oh. That's alright, I'll come up after breakfast. Thank you Madam Pomfrey."

"Good evening, Miss Granger."

* * *

"Good evening, Katelyn," came the voice of her head of house.

Despite herself, she rolled over. She didn't have it in her to be disrespectful to an adult no matter how empty she felt.

"Hi Professor," she said meekly, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

"Madam Pomfrey and I have spoken with the headmaster, and we have agreed it's best that you see a mind healer."

"Mind healer?"

"I believe muggles generally call them therapists, or perhaps psychiatrists. I'm not quite clear on the distinction, I admit."

"Do I have a choice?"

"You told the Headmaster that you don't regret your actions, did you not?"

" … I did."

"Then it would be woefully irresponsible of us to allow you to return to classes in your current state of mind, don't you think?"

"I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Katelyn. But we have a responsibility to you, to care for you and keep you safe, and we've failed you. We want to make it right."

"Do you … think it will work ... if … if I don't want to get better?"

"Oh Katelyn, dear, all we ask is that you try, alright? You have a long, happy life ahead of you, don't throw that away. Won't you try for me?"

She was silent for a long moment.

" … okay. I will. I'll try. … When do I see them?"

"I'm so happy to hear you say so. They can meet you tomorrow afternoon. Is that alright?"

"I think so. How … where do I have to go?"

"You'll be taking the floo in Poppy's office to Diagon Alley. I will be escorting you."

"But who … you have class, don't you?"

"Albus will take care of it. The meeting is only for an hour or so."

"I'm sorry I'm causing so much trouble. I didn't meant for all of this to happen."

"It would have been far more trouble had you succeeded, Miss Potter. However, that is in the past. Don't you worry yourself for even a moment about us. If we had been doing our jobs properly, you wouldn't be here in the first place."

Katelyn didn't have a response to that.


	2. Chapter 2

\- Past -

* * *

Katelyn thought she was going to be sick with guilt, and embarrassment. She hadn't lost her temper like that in a long time. And now there could be no doubt that Katelyn Potter was a nutter. The stress, fear, and guilt were thrumming in her skull so loudly that she could barely remember the exhilarating roar of adrenaline fueled ecstasy she had felt when she'd dived to catch the stupid thing.

The echoes of laughter were still pounding in her ears as a furious McGonagall marched her back into the castle. Neville had been hurt, sure, but it's not as if he was going to die. It was only a broken wrist. And it was just a stupid toy. Malfoy was right about that. And McGonagall was right too. Katelyn probably could have died. All for some boy who wasn't even her friend.

She tried not to listen as the voice in the back of her mind reminded her that no one was her friend. The thought was shoved away as she remembered that she was going to be expelled. She was going to have to go back to Privet Drive, tail between her legs.

* * *

"Hey, Katelyn Potter, right?"

She jumped in surprise, to see two red-haired twins standing over the back of her chair, smiling at her. The Weasleys.

"You remember us from the train, yeah?" the left twin asked.

She nodded, trying not to look apprehensive. Katelyn was aware of their reputation.

"Yes, you helped me with my trunk," she said cautiously. Thankfully, the encounter was among the few things she remembered from that day.

The right twin smiled, and extended his hand.

"Welcome to the team!" he said cheerfully.

She stared at his proffered hand in surprise for a moment, then quickly reached out to give it a gentle shake before he could decide she was rude, or stupid.

"Wood's just told us," said the left twin as he took his turn to shake hands with her. "Well done."

"Thanks," she mumbled shyly, deciding not to mention that she'd hardly done anything.

"We're on the team too - beaters," the right one added.

"I tell you, we're going to win the cup for sure this year."

"You must be good, Katelyn. He was practically skipping when he told us."

After the twins left, it took a while to calm her nerves and reassure herself that she hadn't just been tricked somehow. Maybe Quidditch wouldn't be so bad. It couldn't be if everyone was so happy to have her on the team.

* * *

Katelyn was having a nice, peaceful breakfast at her own isolated little section of the Gryffindor table when her morning was ruined by several owls dropping a great long parcel onto her plate, tipping over her goblet of milk and sending her scrambling out of her seat to avoid the spill.

Hermione was laughing from down the table before she even had the chance to register everything that happened.

"Could you be any more stupid?" she laughed derisively, standing up to inspect the damage up close. "Get through half of a flying lesson and you decide you'll just treat yourself to a broom? Did you forget the bit where you're not even allowed to have one? Actually, don't even answer that, I think I can guess."

"Professor McGonagall ordered it for me," Katelyn mumbled defensively, already feeling the tears pressing at her cheeks as more heads turned to seek out the disturbance.

"She ordered it?! Oh, please! She seemed perfectly happy to grab you by the ear and drag you as far away from a broom as possible! I'm surprised they even let you continue flying lessons!"

Katelyn felt herself getting dangerously close to crying. After quickly reading the attached note warning her not to open it at the table (as if ), she awkwardly scooped up the parcel, intending to hide it in her dorm before it could cause any further issues.

"Yes, you'd best run along before I go and _corroborate_ your story, and see that you're finally expelled."

"You can ask her," Katelyn said, more to herself than Hermione, turning to leave before she came up with any other clever insults.

It would perhaps come as no surprise that Katelyn's awful morning didn't end there. The moment she made to head up the stairs towards her dorm, she was ambushed by none other than Draco Malfoy and his two friends, who grabbed the package from her hands.

"This is a broom," Malfoy said with a nasty look, as he felt around the paper wrapping. "You're in for it this time. First years aren't allowed."

"Give it back," Katelyn growled, still dangerously close to tears.

"I don't think I will. In fact, I think it's my duty to turn it in, since you're not supposed to have one anyway."

"Just give it back." She nearly said please, but she wasn't going to beg, even if he snapped it in half right then and there.

"Not arguing, I hope?" squeaked the voice of Professor Flitwick, who had suddenly appeared at Draco's elbow.

"Potter's got a broom, Professor!" Draco said with glee, holding the package aloft.

"Yes, yes, that's right," Professor Flitwick said, beaming at Katelyn. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances. And what model is it?"

"Oh, I don't know," Katelyn said, breathing a sigh of relief as an infuriated Draco stuffed it back into her arms and made a hasty retreat. She quickly wiped at her eyes just in case, then looked over the note again. "It's a uh… a Nimbus two thousand, sir."

"An excellent broom! I look forward to seeing you play against my 'claws in May!" he said happily.

"Oh - wait - Professor," she called as he turned to go.

"Yes, Miss Potter?"

"Is there maybe somewhere I can put this? So - so I don't have to keep it in my dorm?"

"Why certainly! There are lockers down on the pitch, in the players rooms."

She felt a massive weight lifted from her shoulders. No more marching her contraband broom around the halls. She scurried off to stash it before classes started.

* * *

"And where are _you_ going, Potter?" came the disdainful voice of her worst nightmare, Hermione Granger, who was sat at her favorite table by the bookshelves. Katelyn blanched, her hand frozen halfway to the handle of the portrait. She wasn't meant to tell anyone that she had made the team.

"Going to Professor McGonagall to beg for more special privileges? Maybe a pony?"

Lavender and Parvati laughed.

"I'm going to the library," she lied. "To study," she added, rather stupidly.

Hermione snorted.

"Without any books? Hah! That explains a lot, actually."

She had been especially nasty since learning that Katelyn wasn't being expelled for her stunt during flying lessons. Just yesterday had been Hermione's birthday. Naturally, all of the girls had held a little celebration in the common room, to which Katelyn had been specifically _not_ invited to. Hermione had been very vocal about all of the nice gifts her parents sent her, and how much they loved her.

But today, after McGonagall confirmed that Katelyn was allowed to have the broom, she had somehow been even worse. She'd managed to sabotage Katelyn's cauldron in Potions, getting her yelled at by Snape and laughed at by the entire class. The fifteen points Katelyn lost somehow made her housemates angry with her, even though they must have known Hermione did it.

Regardless, Katelyn was just looking forward to getting the training over with, so she could collapse into the weekend and spent all of Saturday in bed.

"Well, whatever rubbish you're up to, it'd better not be against the rules. And you'd better come back before curfew. I think you've cost us enough points today, don't you?"

" _You_ blew up my cauldron."

"Why, I haven't the foggiest what you mean, Katelyn," Hermione said in a falsely sweet voice. Lavender and Parvati snickered. Katelyn ground her teeth.

Just then, the portrait hole opened, and Oliver Wood stepped through, carrying a big wooden crate under his arm.

"Ah, there you are, Potter!" he said happily. "I was just up talking with McGonagall, and I thought I would see if I could catch you before you headed down. Are you ready?"

"Yes, let's go please," she said, risking a quick glance to see Hermione and friends looking gobsmacked.

The expressions on their faces would keep her going through the weekend at the least, she thought as she walked down to the stadium with Oliver.

"So," he said as they arrived at the locker room, and he set down the big wooden box, "Where's your broom?"

"Oh! I hid it over here," she said, scurrying out the door to retrieve the package from where she had stashed it underneath one of the bleachers.

"You hid it?" he asked when she returned.

"I uh … I didn't know how to use the lockers."

Oliver laughed, but it wasn't the mean kind of laughter she was used to. Her face suddenly felt very warm.

"Here, let me show you. We have our own lockers that only someone on the team can open."

He took his wand out, and cast an unfamiliar charm on a row of lockers, then pointed it at Katelyn and cast again. She felt a funny tingle in her arms.

"Try to open this one. It's yours."

The door sprung open as she reached for it, and she found a complete set of brand new practice gear stacked neatly inside for her.

"Your uniform should be here by the first practice."

Even as she stared, a bit wide eyed, at the pile of gear, she couldn't believe she was getting her own uniform. She wondered what her number would be. She wondered if it would have her name on it.

That night would go on to become her absolute best at Hogwarts. Oliver explained what all of the different balls did, and who played each position, while Katelyn listened with rapt attention. She didn't want to look like an idiot come her first real practice, and he just made it all so interesting.

'He would make a great professor', she thought as she watched him tackle the bludger to the ground and begin wrestling it back into the chest.

Once the rules were explained, he showed her how to properly put on all of her pads, which involved him touching her a lot, but she found that didn't mind. He was very respectful, and even apologized when he accidentally touched her lower back while adjusting her uniform for her. Her face had probably been probably very red.

After that, they finally unwrapped her Nimbus 2000, and his excitement was infectious.

"Oh yes, that's a quality broom," he said with clear satisfaction, turning it over in his hands. "I envy the craftsmanship of the Nimbus series, but I prefer the grit of a Cleansweep personally."

To her surprise, he held it up to his face and gave it a long sniff, sighing contentedly. He caught her confused glance, and smiled.

"Nothing like the smell of a new broom," he said, before handing it over to her.

Feeling more than a bit foolish, Katelyn gave the broom a tentative sniff, and to her surprise found that it did smell rather nice. It was oily and crisp. Earthy.

"Go on and take a test lap, make sure you've got the feel for it."

She felt a bit nervous with him watching, but she mounted the broom and kicked off. It was actually very pleasant if she managed to pretend that he wasn't there. The Nimbus 2000 was incredibly smooth and easy to fly - it didn't fight with her like the older school brooms. She soared up into the cool night air, with the wind whistling through her hair, before diving back down, savoring the familiar sensation of freefall.

"McGonagall was right," Wood said with slight wonderment as she touched down after another minute of flying. "You're good."

Needless to say, she blushed heavily.

He then had her practice catching golf balls. He started off throwing them lightly, in an underhand arc. She caught them easily, and he moved to throwing overhand, high up into the sky, or low and fast like a baseball pitch so that she had to skim along the ground - but she never missed a one. Before long, Oliver was cheering, whooping with joy, whipping golf balls into the air as hard as he could, at all sorts of wonky angles, and yet she caught them again and again.

She had never felt happier, and despite being winded and slightly dizzy. She hadn't even realized that it was now completely dark out save for the light of the castle. How long had they been going for?

"Okay!" he called out, stooping down to catch his breath. "Come on back down."

Feeling lighter than she ever remembered feeling, she sped back down to the pitch and hopped off of her broom at a slight run, only to stumble over as a sudden rush of vertigo swept up from her legs.

"Whoa there!" Oliver said, catching her around the middle and quickly setting her back on her feet. "Don't worry. You'll get your land legs back in a second. It's normal if you've never flown for such a long stretch before."

Katelyn felt all of her blood flowing to her cheeks, as Oliver firmly held onto her shoulders until she stopped swaying.

"Feeling better?" he asked once she had steadied out.

"Yeah, sorry," she said, avoiding his eyes.

Oliver packed up all of the equipment as she changed, and they walked back to the castle together.

"That Quidditch cup'll have our name on it this year," Wood said confidently. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons."

Katelyn couldn't remember feeling happier in her entire life.

* * *

It was two short weeks later that Katelyn declared her love for Quidditch dead. It wasn't any moment in particular, just a number of awful things all bundled up together.

The first of many was the rest of the school finding out that she had made the team. It started with a few extra stares, and then whispering, and before long the entire school knew that Katelyn Potter had been made the Gryffindor seeker. As a first year. The youngest in a century.

Oliver had tried to keep her a secret, like a hidden weapon, but she suspected that Hermione worked it out the night that Oliver had come to collect her from the common room. And it wasn't just the older students who had tried out for the position that were angry. Absolutely no one believed she would be any good. Her entire house thought that she was going to doom them to a year of losses.

Of course, if it wasn't her fellow Gryffindors staring skeptically at her, it was the Slytherins openly laughing at her. Draco and Pansy had taken to thanking her for guaranteeing them the house cup whenever they got the chance. The older years had started mockingly applauding her in the halls. Snape couldn't decide if he was furious or delighted, but was especially mean either way.

On the pitch, things weren't much better. She still remembered, with haunting clarity, when she had stepped into the Gryffindor locker room for her first team practice.

"Oh my God," one of the girls had said, in a tone of surprised annoyance. "I really though you were joking, Oliver."

"I can't believe McGonagall actually put her on the team," said another.

"Cut it, you two," Oliver said, coming to her defense. "I've seen her play. You'll be eating your words."

They laughed.

It only took two practices before she was sure that all three chasers, Alicia, Angelina, and Katie, hated her. Katelyn wasn't athletic, and couldn't keep up with their warmup drills, where they ran laps, or did exercises on the ground.

She tried. She tried so hard. She threw up sometimes, she was so desperate to catch up. Oliver warned her that she was overexerting herself, and told her it was fine if it took her a few weeks to get into the swing of things. At the very next practice, she opened her locker to find manure had been dumped over all of her equipment. Oliver made the chasers lend her their own spare uniforms, and respelled her locker so only she could open it. During warmup, Katelyn ran until she passed out.

And then she passed out again, two days later, in the corridor on her way to Charms. Madam Pomfrey found out that she had regularly been skipping meals, and made her start taking supplements and reporting to her office twice a week for checkups.

Because of the fainting spell, Hermione started the trend of calling her a drama queen, and it stuck. The chasers still mocked her unrelentingly whenever Oliver's back was turned. Snape continued to treat her with exceptional cruelty, especially after she fainted for a third time in his class, just as she was walking up to his desk to turn in her potion. It shattered, naturally, and she regained consciousness to find that she was in the hospital wing, and had been given a zero for the day.

Madam Pomfrey told Katelyn (and Professor McGonagall) that she wasn't gaining any weight, despite the supplements, and switched her to nutrition potions, which she had to eat with her meals. Despite her attempts to hide the potions, it was a mere day and half before Hermione noticed, and added it to her ever-growing list of Katelyn's personal failures to be openly mocked.

* * *

Practice had just ended for the night. Though Katelyn had been on a broom for the last hour, her legs still burned fiercely (not that they didn't always hurt). It was a long way back up to the castle, so Katelyn always made sure that she was the first out of the locker room.

Unfortunately, Katelyn was so fixated on the prospect of taking a cold shower to soothe her muscles that she didn't notice the entire Slytherin team coming to trade off the pitch until she had nearly wandered into them.

"Hey, watch where you're going Potter!" jeered one of the beaters.

She tried to ignore them, but it was hard not to notice nearly half of the team melodramatically pretending to faint, laughing as they theatrically tumbled to the ground.

"Aw, what's wrong?" called another as she strode past. "Baby Potter didn't have her formula today?"

Her skull echoed as a fist-sized clod of dirt and mud struck her on the back of the head, drawing another burst of laughter from the Slytherin team. For a moment, every fiber of her being demanded that she whip around on the spot and scream in primal, senseless rage. But mercifully, logic won out. Anything, _anything,_ she did to so much as acknowledge their presence would only fuel the fire.

So instead, she just kept walking. She walked faster, as fast as she could, back up to the castle, though her legs threatened to give out altogether. She probably kept going for a lot longer than she needed to, but she couldn't risk looking back lest they see how close she was to tears.

She could barely stand by the time she reached the common room. The only thing that managed to sway her from simply collapsing into her bed was Hermione bursting into laughter as soon as she set foot into the dorm.

"Oh, Katelyn," she laughed patronizingly, "You've … oh! You've got a bit of … dirt in - in your hair, just there!" She could barely speak as she doubled over, clutching her stomach. "Not that it's - not that it's a particularly bad look for you, of course! In fact -"

Her voice was lost behind the thick wooden door to the lavatory as Katelyn slammed it shut and practically collapsed into the shower. She must have sat, huddled, crying, on the floor for nearly an hour, until the drain had long run clean, and she ran out of tears to cry.


	3. Chapter 3

-Past-

* * *

It was now October. The Great Hall was decorated with dozens upon dozens of enormous, intricately carved pumpkins. Real live bats swooped around the room, settling in clusters in the rafters, which were submerged in thick clouds and shimmery moonlight from the enchanted ceiling.

Katelyn was more miserable than ever.

The only tattered shred of good news in her life was that she no longer had to take nutrient potions with meals, after Madam Pomfrey told her that she was at an acceptable weight. When she could be alone, Katelyn would stare into the mirror for a long time. She didn't think she looked any different. She didn't feel any different. She just felt sore, and tired, and empty.

She hadn't been to the hospital wing in two weeks, and that had only been because she had gotten a stress fracture. But she didn't care. She didn't care that her kneecaps ached, or that she had shin splints, or that her heels screamed in pain for the first hundred steps she took every day.

She didn't care, because at the last practice she had outrun all three chasers. And they only hated her more for it.

Currently she was in the library. Studying. She couldn't remember the last time she had taken a moment to relax, but with the extra practices Oliver had been scheduling, she didn't have time for anything else. It took every spare minute just to keep her head above water in class, when she was so exhausted that she couldn't properly pay attention half of the time.

She had given up hope of Oliver ever caring about her as anything but a member of his team. He still didn't understand why she tried to hard to keep up with the chasers. He probably never would.

She remembered how nice the twins had been to her, when they found out she had made the team. But they had always been close friends with the three chasers. So now they just … shied around her, like she was a spill on the carpet they didn't want to step in. Maybe they would give her a sympathetic glance if no one was around. She thought she might have preferred if they would just be mean to her too, so she wouldn't keep feeling hopeful when she saw them apart from the chasers.

Katelyn shook her herself, trying to clear her head and refocus. She still had a Potions essay to complete, and it was only a half an hour from curfew. She would probably end up finishing it in her bed, late into the night, like she usually did, but she buried her nose in the pages all the same.

* * *

Another two weeks passed, and suddenly it was Halloween. There was going to be a feast that evening. Katelyn didn't really feel like there was much to celebrate. Just yesterday, Pansy had asked her how it felt to have a feast to celebrate her parents dying. Katelyn had only glared at her, but truthfully, there was only so much worse she could feel. She did spend most of that evening crying in a bathroom, but she already did that quite a lot. She had found a bathroom that was haunted by a ghost named Myrtle, who was actually almost nice to her, and was always glad to have someone to cry with, so it had become a bit of a routine thing.

At the moment Katelyn was wandering the halls, avoiding the feast. She knew she would have to go eventually. McGonagall had taken to confronting her if she missed more than one meal a day and she had already skipped breakfast and lunch. But she thought it could wait just a little longer, so she walked, and walked. Her legs were still perpetually sore from running, but she had begun to savor the dull burning. Sometimes it hurt more to stop than to just keep going.

She tried to remember if she had finished all of her homework. Potions … yes, Charms … yes, Transfiguration … yes, ... crying … wait, what?

She paused in front of a door - it was a girls bathroom. She could have sworn she heard crying. But now it was was silent. She walked away from the door and down the hall with intentionally loud footsteps, waited around the corner for a moment, and then slowly tiptoed her way back.

Yes, someone was definitely crying in the bathroom. She thought it almost sounded like herself. Without really thinking, she quietly pushed the door open and went inside. The crying was even more clear now. She felt like she was dreaming as she silently approached the door, and, merlin knows why, she opened the stall.

Her heart did something strange when a teary eyed Hermione Granger jumped a foot in the air in fright, collapsing back onto the lid of the toilet with a thump. She thought she should say something mean, or laugh - the opportunity couldn't have presented itself more perfectly - but instead she just frowned. The bushy-haired bully was staring at her with wide eyes, a mixture of fear and anger, as if she was defying Katelyn to try something, to say something, yet couldn't quite stuff away the tears.

"Are you okay?" Katelyn asked.

"What?" Hermione snapped.

"Are you hurt? What's wrong?"

"Why do you care?" she growled, still looking very much like a trapped, frightened animal.

"I … I'm not sure," Katelyn admitted. "I shouldn't."

Hermione looked away for a moment, before burying her face in her arms and taking a great, shuddering breath.

"I got an 'A' on my potions essay," she whispered. Katelyn barely caught it. 'A' meant acceptable of course, which must be a low grade for the smartest girl in their class.

"Oh."

"I've been spending too much time with Lavender and Parvati," Hermione continued, though it didn't sound like she was really talking to her. "They never want to study - they always want me to goof around with them and I - I don't know how to say no."

Katelyn wasn't sure how to say no either. No one had ever asked her.

"How do you do it?" Hermione said, her voice suddenly becoming more bitter than sad.

"... do what?"

"How do you keep getting better grades than me?!" she exploded, finally looking up from her arms to glare. "I studied for hours and you still beat me in charms! And now you spend every single bloody night _playing Quidditch!_ " The last two words were ground out as though they had personally attacked her. "And you still get better marks! Why can't I ever win?! Just once?!"

Katelyn's mind was reeling. She was usually too afraid to look at the scores on her returned assignments. She couldn't remember the last time she'd honestly thought about what her grades were - it took everything she had just to turn her work in on time in the first place.

She had to shake her head to clear the fuzziness.

"I … I didn't know," was all she could manage to say.

"How could you not know!? I've asked! Flitwick, McGonagall, everyone! Even Sprout! They've all told me that I'm just shy of top of the class! I work so hard! I'm naturally gifted! And now look at me! An ' _acceptable_ '!"

" ... I've never really thought about it like that."

"Oh _of course_ you bloody haven't!" Hermione was beginning to tear up again. Katelyn felt a bit sick. "The _Girl Who Lived!_ Youngest quidditch player in a _century!_ And you DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT?! ARGH!" She paused for a moment to take a few angry gasps of breath. "For the top of our class you really are an idiot, you know that?! God, you're so bloody stupid it drives me mental!"

"I'm … do you want me to skip a few assignments? Or?"

"NO! I want you to sod off back to wherever you came from and get out of my life! I hate you! No one likes you! No one wants you here!"

She ducked her head and began sobbing into her arms again. Katelyn thought she should be offended, or hurt, but if anything she just felt sorry for her. From where she stood, it felt a bit like Hermione had picked a fight with lamp post that she'd just bumped into. Katelyn let her cry for a bit, before finally speaking.

"You're doing better than me in Potions, aren't you?" she ventured.

"W...what?"

"You must be doing better than me. Snape fails me every other day. I think even Longbottom gets better marks."

Hermione lifted her head from her arms, quickly wiping away a tear before scrutinizing Katelyn, like she might just be a mirage in the desert.

"Maybe you're right, actually," she said quietly. "I've never asked him."

"I wouldn't want to ask him either."

To her surprise, Hermione made a small little huff of laughter.

"I'm going to beat you in Charms next, then," she said, but with far less anger than she'd had a minute ago.

"Do you want me to just let you?"

"No. I'm going to trounce you fair and square."

"Won't Lavender and Parvati be upset?"

"Sod them. They're boring anyway."

"Well, you'll have better luck in History. I can barely keep my eyes open."

"No, that's too easy. I'm going to beat you in charms."

"O- okay …" Katelyn wasn't quite sure what to make of this bizarre turn of conversation. "Good luck, I guess."

"I don't need luck, Potter."

She kept still as Hermione shouldered past her, content to wait and listen to her footsteps fade away before finally heading down to dinner.

But as the door clicked open, the footsteps suddenly stopped. And then started coming back. Katelyn was afraid to turn, thinking Hermione might try to bludgeon her over the head, when the bushy haired girl made a little whimper, and the foulest smell she had ever smelled began to assault her senses.

Katelyn finally turned - to see a massive creature push its way through the partially open door, so large it had to squat down to squeeze through. It towered over them both, and it had a massive wooden club in its long arms.

She could hear Hermione's breathing grow faster, and faster as the creature took a thunderous step towards them - head cocked, squinting at them as if trying to decide if they were real.

Katelyn stepped backwards, towards the opposite side of the room, but Hermione didn't move. She seized the back of her robes and slowly dragged her along.

"We have to run for it, okay?" she whispered, as urgently and quietly as she could. "Hermione!"

"O-o-k-k-kay," Hermione whimpered with a trembling nod of the head.

The monster took another lumbering step and again Katelyn had to physically drag Hermione back by the scruff. The creature stepped closer, and again the two girls stepped back. She knew if this kept up they would reach the wall before long. They had to do something. Now.

"When I say go, run around it and go for the door, okay?" she hissed into Hermione's ear.

She nodded.

"Ready … set … "

But the monster roared, and raised its club with startling speed - Katelyn moved to leap backwards, but the arm still holding Hermione's collar caught - she hadn't moved - she had her head buried in her arms, cowering -

So Katelyn did the only thing that could be done, and shoved her to the ground, just as the beast swung. The club connected with her middle, and suddenly she was across the room, lying on the floor amongst a pile of shattered white porcelain while Hermione's screams rang through the room.

She looked up, blinking stars out of her eyes. Her body had gone numb - she couldn't move. Water was pouring out from a pipe behind her. Her lungs weren't working properly. She could see Hermione's trembling legs below the door of the very last stall.

The giant swung its club and decimated the thin wooden dividers - exposing a cowering Hermione, who had been just far enough back that she wasn't hit. She could see splinters stuck in her hair. The monster roared and raised the club again.

"H-hey fatso!" Katelyn finally managed to shout, her voice crackling ominously in her chest. "OVER HERE!" The monster stopped, club still raised, turning to look for the noise.

"Look down, stupid!"

Then it spotted her, and began moving back in her direction. From its expression, she guessed that it hadn't liked her tone.

"RUN HERMIONE!"

Thankfully, Hermione did just that, but the monster turned around again at the sound of her frantically scrambling through the rubble of the stalls.

"NO! Here!" Katelyn screamed, desperate to save her. "C'mon you big idiot!"

She coughed, and felt something warm and metallic bubbling up into her mouth. But it didn't matter, because the monster turned back towards her long enough for Hermione to slip through the door.

"Come and get me," Katelyn rasped, feeling a mixture of relief and terror. She'd done it.

The last thing she remembered before blacking out was the monster raising the club, high over its head.


	4. Chapter 4

-Past-

* * *

"Ah, I do believe Miss Potter has decided to join us," came a pleasant voice.

"Wha … " she murmured, clapping a very heavy hand to her forehead as a dull, throbbing headache set upon her.

"No need to be alarmed, Katelyn," said the voice, which she now recognized as the Headmasters. "You're currently safe and sound in the hospital wing."

She groaned, unwilling to prize her eyes apart. Her pulse thudded under her fingertips.

"Miss Potter, drink these, please," said the voice of Madam Pomfrey.

With one last sigh, she peeled her eyelids apart, letting the blurry morning light flood her weary eyes. She carefully sat up against the pillows, noting with relief that it didn't feel like blood was going to suddenly come streaming out of her mouth. She held her hand out in front of her, and Pomfrey's foggy shape gently pressed a small phial into her palm. She tipped it back without making a fuss, eager to get it over with.

"Very good," Pomfrey said, swapping the empty bottle for another.

Once she had finished a round of various potions, Dumbledore handed her eyeglasses to her, and she carefully put them on, blinking thickly until she could focus.

"How do you feel, Miss Potter?" Pomfrey asked.

"My head hurts."

"Ah, just a moment." The matron disappeared to her office.

"I must say, my dear Katelyn," said Dumbledore with a soft smile, "that by Miss Granger's recollection of events, you have quite a lot to be proud of."

"Is she okay?" she said. Her voice rasped and she suddenly realized that she was very thirsty.

"Yes, Miss Granger is perfectly well. Just a few scrapes and a skinned knee. Though she was, quite understandably, very worried about you."

Katelyn felt the faint flicker of an impulse to roll her eyes, but she wouldn't dare.

"Could I have some water?"

The headmaster nodded, and conjured a cool glass with a leisurely flick of his wand.

"Thank you," she said after she had taken a small sip. "What happened? What was that thing?"

"Ah. Well, you see, our splendid Halloween feast was interrupted by the announcement that a fully grown mountain troll had entered the premises. Miss Brown and Miss Patil wisely alerted the staff that their friend Miss Granger had been seeking refuge in the lavatory since mid-day, after she had overheard young Mister Weasley make some remarks about her that I'm told were in very poor taste. Though I am loathe to dwell on the morbid details, I should suffice it to say: I believe that had we arrived just a moment later, you and I might not be speaking now.

"Oh. Yeah ... I remember. I thought that I was going to die."

Dumbledore nodded sadly.

"What you did last night to save Miss Granger, placing yourself directly into harm's way not once, but twice, so that she might escape, is the most selfless and brave thing I have had the privilege to witness in a very, very long time. To call you anything but a hero would be a terrible disservice."

Katelyn frowned.

"I didn't really think about it," she said meekly. "It just happened."

"And all the more courageous for it," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. "To sacrifice yourself without even a moment's hesitation."

She shrugged. She didn't feel brave. Just sore.

"I guess so. Does everyone know about what happened, then?" She swallowed involuntarily, and decided to take another drink of water.

Dumbledore inclined his head just slightly.

"There have been some rumors floating about, as will often happen in such extraordinary circumstances, but I had planned to make an announcement at breakfast. The staff thought an award for special services to the school was in order, in fact."

Katelyn felt a cold, nervous weight snake into her gut. That sounded like the opposite of what she wanted.

"Could … I mean - that's very kind … but could you maybe … not tell anyone instead?"

He considered her curiously for a moment as she began to blush. Then he smiled, and dipped his head.

"Yes, that's certainly a reasonable request. I wonder, however … if you would be averse to being the anonymous recipient of a rather sizable number of house points instead? I had planned to make a bit of a spectacle of it, I admit … but I am certainly happy to award them to you all the same."

"Oh. Sure, that's fine. Thank you."

"Think nothing of it, Katelyn. It's no less than what you deserve." He winked. "One hundred points to Gryffindor, then."

On second thought, it would have been nice to take credit for the points. She could imagine her housemates might have despised her just a bit less. Then again, with her luck, they'd find a way to be angry about it instead. Plenty of people thought she was a teacher's pet for all the time she spent in McGonagall's office (though it was usually to scold her).

Just then, the door to Madam Pomfrey's office opened.

"Here you are, Miss Potter," the matron called as she made her way over. "I apologize. It slipped my mind that I'd run out, and I had to nip down to see Severus."

"Oh, that's okay. Thank you."

She wondered if Snape would have thought to poison it, but she drank it anyway.

* * *

"Madam Pomfrey? How much longer do I need to stay for?"

"Already itching to escape? You've hardly been awake for an hour, dear."

It had felt like far more, after Pomfrey had forced her to eat an entire meal, and run a litany of tests to assess her condition. Just from the woman's expression, she had been able to tell that the results had not been stellar.

"I was just asking because I have practice tonight."

Her heart sank as Pomfrey gave her a sad smile that somehow seemed as much like rolling her eyes as it did pity.

"I'm sorry, dear," she said, hardly sounding sorry, "you'll be able to return to classes but I can't have you aggravating that concussion. Fracturing your skull twice is far more than enough for a lifetime. You'll need to take at least the week off."

Katelyn bit her tongue, knowing she was just an inch away from doing or saying something she would regret. Madam Pomfrey wouldn't understand how badly she needed to be there.

"The game is next Saturday," she said evenly, exerting every ounce of willpower she had to keep her voice steady.

"And _if_ you rest and recover successfully, you ought to be fit to resume playing by then."

"Can I at least sit on the bleachers and watch?"

Pomfrey thought for a long moment.

"If I hear that you've so much as put a toe on the pitch, I will see to it that you spend every practice from now until February cleaning bedpans for me."

"That's fine. Can I leave now?"

"Yes I suppose you may," she said with a great sigh. "But you're to come see me if you have any lingering headaches or pains immediately. We'll meet for a checkup next Friday morning and see if you're in proper condition to be playing Quidditch again."

She forced herself to nod.

"Yes ma'am. Thank you."

She felt a bit like she was floating as she left the wing. Despite being enclosed by stone on all sides, she felt as though she was outside it all. Trapped yet never even really there. It seemed like hours before she reached the common room.

In light of the troll attack, Friday classes had been cancelled, so the common room was crowded. Thankfully, it seemed Dumbledore had kept his word, and she hardly received a stray glance as she quietly slipped through the portrait hole.

She didn't find Oliver after scanning the room several times, but she did spot the Weasley twins, talking with their friend Lee. As she approached, she could hear that they were discussing the troll.

"I didn't think a troll was even smart enough to open a door."

"Well, clearly they can. I overheard one of the ghosts … " The twin that was speaking bent down to whisper, looking conspiratorial. "... say that a first year was trapped in the -"

He stopped as they finally noticed her, and the twin quickly snapped a grin onto his face.

"Eavesdropping, eh Potter?" he said cheerfully.

"Trying to get a juicy scoop on the troll attack?" asked the other, while Lee tried not to laugh. She didn't fail to notice both twins eyes both darting about the room. Looking for the chasers in case they would be seen talking.

"A bit of advice from one mischief maker to another - eavesdropping usually works better if you aren't standing right next to them."

She waited for them to stop laughing at their own joke.

"I'm looking for Oliver."

"Oh, I think he left," he said, thankfully dropping the pretense that they were on friendly terms.

"He might be talking to McGonagall, though," said the other. "Try there."

"Thanks," she said tonelessly, turning to go. She spotted Hermione, watching from where she was perched on a chair nearby.

As Katelyn passed, it looked very much she wanted to say something, but no words left her mouth. Nonetheless, the silence had sounded an awful lot like, 'I would like to have a very uncomfortable conversation.'

Katelyn kept walking. She sighed as she reached the portrait hole, only to find Alicia and Angelina on the other side. Surely fate had to be conspiring against her today.

"Oh, don't mind us, Potter," Alicia said with a flashy smile, "Come on through, after you, as you do."

She gave them a weary look, before reluctantly stepping through. Naturally, they tripped her with a quick jynx, and she heard them laughing to each other up until the portrait sealed shut.

"Are you alright, dear?" the Fat lady asked as she dusted herself off.

"Yeah. Fine. Thanks."

She slumped off to Professor McGonagall's office, feeling no worse than she always did, other than a sore wrist, and the additional embarrassment of thinking that the encounter could have gone any differently. She realized with dread just how much more angry they would be once they learned that she had been banned from practice for a week. The worrying carried her to McGonagall's office far too quickly. Just as she reached the door , it opened, revealing a very serious Oliver. He looked very surprised to see her.

"Oh - uh, hi Katelyn. We were … just talking about you, actually."

"Miss Potter," McGonagall said with worry, standing up from her desk, "shouldn't you still be in the hospital wing?"

"Hospital wing?" Oliver said in confusion.

"It's nothing," Katelyn said quickly. "Madam Pomfrey said I was okay to leave."

"So I won't be expecting her to come barging in wondering where you've gone?"

Katelyn couldn't help a tiny gasp of air escaping as her cheeks turned bright red. She hung her head and averted her eyes, shocked that her head of house would bring that up now, in front of Oliver.

McGonagall seemed to realize what she'd done as well.

"Oh I'm sorry, I don't mean to - anyways, I suppose Poppy knows best," she said quickly. "Why don't you come in, Miss Potter?"

She felt them both staring as she took up in the chair across from McGonagall's desk. The room was incredibly warm.

"Miss Potter," she said, taking on a very serious tone, "Mister Wood has brought to my attention some … issues regarding your place on the house team."

For a moment, she thought that they might be kicking her off. Strangely, the idea didn't bother her overly much.

"Miss Potter, have you experienced any bullying during your time on the team?"

Her heart dropped into her stomach as she heard the question rattling around in her head. What if the chasers found out that she had talked? How much worse would they treat her if they knew? She realized that she had been unconsciously massaging her sore wrist, and slowly dropped her hands back into her lap.

"I … they just don't like me very much," she said hesitantly. "It's not that bad."

"Is that so, Miss Potter? Oliver was just telling me that they've been bullying you since your first day on the team."

She shot him a glare.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything until now," he said, hanging his head.

"They're really not that bad," she insisted, a bit more nervously now. "They never hit me or anything like that."

"And is that how you define 'bad', Katelyn? That they haven't physically attacked you? Oliver says that they dumped manure into your locker."

"It was just a prank," she murmured.

"He also claims he overheard them telling you to 'go cry to mommy and daddy' after you collapsed during practice," McGonagall added darkly. "Does that fit your definition of a prank?"

Katelyn looked away, unable to come up with an explanation.

"I'm fine," she said. "It doesn't bother me."

McGonagall stared at her for a hard moment, before sighing deeply.

"Be that as it may, I want you to know that such behavior is unacceptable, and completely unbecoming of a Gryffindor. Oliver was right to bring his concerns to me. There is no room for bullying at Hogwarts, on the team or otherwise."

"I just wish I would have said something sooner," Oliver added somberly. "It's not right."

"It's fine," she insisted."I'm fine."

"Regardless, I will be speaking with them about their behavior," McGonagall added.

"N-no, you don't have to do that," she said a bit too quickly. "It's not that bad, honest."

She couldn't wrench her eyes away from the floor, but she felt McGonagall studying her.

"If you are worried that my intervention will make things worse, Katelyn, I can assure you that I have experience in dealing with bullies." She paused for a moment, but Katelyn still couldn't bear to meet her gaze. "And if they continue to give you trouble, all you need to do is come to me for help. If those girls insist on bothering you until they are given detention, or removed from the team, so be it. I won't stand for bullying in my house, even if it means I have to expel them."

If only she knew.

"Okay, fine," she said in defeat. "But will you tell them that I didn't say anything?"

McGonagall sighed.

"Yes, if it will ease your mind. It was Oliver that brought his concerns to me, after all. Miss Potter?"

She wanted eye contact, Katelyn knew, so she dutifully dragged gaze up from the floor, despite how her stomach curled up in discomfort.

"I am truly sorry that they haven't been making you feel welcome on the team. Don't let them discourage you. You're a wonderful young girl, and you deserve your place as much as anyone. Oliver has told me how hard you work."

"I … I won't. Thanks."

McGonagall didn't seem convinced, but let her go all the same. Out in the hall, Oliver wasted no time in questioning her.

"Katelyn, you were in the hospital wing?" he asked tightly. "Did you hurt yourself training too hard again? I thought you were okay now."

"No … that's actually what I was coming to talk to you about. Madam Pomfrey says that I can't play for a week, at least. I'm really sorry."

"What? What happened, then?"

"I was uh … " she blanched as she realized she had never come up with a cover story. "I had … had an accident. I have a concussion. She said I need to get checked again next Friday - but she didn't say that I couldn't play in the game."

"Katelyn …" Oliver sighed.

"I'm sorry, I tried to get her to change her mind. I really did."

"No, that's alright," he said, though he was clearly trying not to act frustrated. "I just … you have to be careful, okay? If you need to miss practice, that's fine. I'll talk to Pomfrey. But we need you as a seeker, Katelyn. We're counting on you."

"I know," she said, feeling very small. The sickly feeling of disappointing him was bad enough that for a few moments she considered telling him the truth. "She … she said I could still go down and watch."

"Fine. I'll let everyone know. Your new job is to take care of yourself so you can pass your checkup. And I'll see you tomorrow for practice. Got it?"

"Yes. I'll be careful."

She didn't think she could face the common room, so she meandered the halls until she finally came to stop at the library. It was busier than she liked, but thankfully no one seemed interested in her as she set to work pretending to read a book that she randomly plucked off the shelf. She let her eyes glaze over, occasionally turning a page as she worried, and worried.

Before long, she was roused from her thoughts by Madam Pince tapping her on the shoulder.

"Dinner will be ending soon, Miss Potter," said the librarian, eyeing the book in her lap as though she suspected Katelyn planned to eat it. "And you've been sitting here since before lunch."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she mumbled, awkwardly getting to her feet though her legs were slightly numb.

"I'll take that, unless you were planning to check it out."

"Oh I - uh - yes, sorry," Katelyn blustered. She quickly handed over the book and scurried away. She liked Madam Pince, who never bothered her whenever she was hiding in the library. Though she certainly didn't plan on eating, the librarian's way of showing concern was by far the most tolerable of any of the adults at Hogwarts.

On her way back to the dormitory, she briefly wondered if anyone would find out if she wandered out the front doors and into the Forbidden Forest. She supposed McGonagall would catch wind of it eventually. She was more than likely already in for another talking-to after missing two meals off the back of a hospital wing visit. She'd have to eat extra at breakfast then.

With that in mind, she reluctantly ascended the stairs and gave the password to the Fat Lady, who was particularly insistent on checking in on Katelyn's welfare (even though she would never give any answer other than 'I'm fine'.)

Luckily, the common room was nearly empty. Perhaps because she was so bloody tired, she made the risky decision of grabbing the most comfortable sofa in front of the fireplace. It was warm, and the gentle crackle of burning timber and savory smell of soot quickly made her eyes begin to feel very, very heavy. She supposed that the upper years would just wake her if they wanted her to move.

Unbeknownst to Katelyn, her fitful sleep came very close to being interrupted.

* * *

Katelyn was still asleep, lying on the couch, with the fire gently crackling away, when a voice spoke up in a harsh whisper. "Hey, you should leave her alone, Lavender," it said.

A handful of Katelyn's hair was released, and a sparkly bottle of bright pink liquid was lowered.

"Oh come off it, Hermione," said Lavender. "It's not like it'll hurt her."

"That's - that's not the point," Hermione whispered back, a bit unsteadily. "It's - it's wrong."

"It's just a bit of fun," came the reply of Parvati Patil, hovering nearby. "She'd look better with purple hair anyway, don't you think?"

"And since when have you ever wanted to leave Potter alone?"

"It's because she has _morals_ ," Parvati said sarcastically. "We can only mess with her if it's for _justice_."

"It's not funny," Hermione said as they both snickered. "I just … I think we should try being nicer to her."

Lavender snorted loudly, trying to choke back her laughter.

"What, you suddenly have a soft spot for Potter? Oooooh, have you developed a crush!?"

"Maybe she decided that she wants to live a life of crime, and they're plotting together now!"

"I certainly am _not,"_ Hermione insisted shakily. "I'm - I … I just think we should think about what we've been doing."

"What we've been doing is having a laugh," Lavender said. "You've been such a worry wart lately. Lighten up. We've been waiting to use this for weeks!"

Lavender carefully grabbed a handful Katelyn's hair again, apparently thinking she was still asleep.

"D-don't!" Hermione hissed. "I'll tell Professor McGonagall!"

Once again Katelyn's hair was released from Brown's clutches.

"That's a low move, don't you think?" Parvati said cooly.

"Tattling? Honestly, I thought you'd had enough bothering McGonagall for one year," added Lavender.

"Just … just leave her be. We've picked on her enough."

"Whatever you say," Lavender sighed.

Katelyn's fitful sleep would continue, long after the girls went up to bed, until Percy returned from his prefect's rounds and woke her, threatening to report her to McGonagall if she didn't go sleep in her own bed for once.


	5. Chapter 5

\- Past -

* * *

Katelyn woke from a few sparse hours of sleep to the sound of giggling, followed by a flurry of footsteps rushing down the stairs. When she finally mustered the willpower to leave her four-poster and emerge into the morning light, she was greeted by an incredibly odd sight. Hermione's bushy hair had turned bright purple in the night.

Hermione, and her ridiculous head of hair, were stood in the middle of the common room. She had her fists clenched. Katelyn met her eyes, mostly by accident, but there was no mistaking Hermione's jaw set in determination, trying not to give a reaction.

Much like before the troll had attacked, Katelyn thought she should find something cathartic, or at least a slightly humorous about it, but instead just felt like climbing back into bed. More than she usually did, anyway. She didn't want to deal with this. Not with the day she was facing.

"I uh … just a little prank," Hermione said uncomfortably. Katelyn realized she'd been staring for quite some time now.

"Right," Katelyn muttered, making for the shower before the awkwardness in the air could get any thicker.

"Wait!"

Katelyn paused before the door.

"Could we … could we talk sometime? About - about what happened?"

A knot formed in her stomach. She wasn't really sure what exactly that talk might entail, but somehow it had suddenly become a rather fight-or-flight kind of thing in her mind.

"Later," she managed to say, pulse inexplicably pounding.

"R-right! Later … later then," Hermione said dazedly, perhaps remembering how ridiculous she looked. "I'm - … right. I think I'll go see Madam Pomfrey about this mess."

Katelyn didn't answer. She really needed a cold shower right about now.

* * *

When Katelyn finally ventured down to the Great Hall, one fit of dry-heaves and a very long shower behind her, she didn't see a cloud of violently purple hair anywhere amongst the other Gryffindors.

' _Good,'_ she thought. ' _One less problem for the morning.'_

What she did see, however, was Oliver glancing over at her repeatedly as he talked with some of his yearmates. Maybe he thought she was faking it. Maybe he thought she was going to drop dead any second. Either way, it didn't matter. Her stomach protested at the mere thought, but she loaded a plate with plain toast and ground her way through four or five slices, along with most of a goblet of milk.

It was a herculean effort in comparison to her usual breakfast (which was nothing), even if it felt like she would spend more energy keeping it down than she'd gain from actually having eaten it. Food would always be an uphill battle. She almost missed those dreadful nutrition potions, because at least those had given her an appetite.

' _Time to walk,'_ she told herself, deciding that what she needed was to get herself moving about. Practice wasn't until the afternoon, and she had nothing else to do besides worry herself sick. Might as well get her muscles burning a little for a bit of a distraction.

* * *

Katelyn was rattled. That wasn't a word she often used to describe herself. Practice had been intense, for lack of a better word. It had been clear, the moment she walked into the locker rooms, that McGonagall had given the chasers a talking to. Not because they had suddenly started acting friendly towards her of course, but because they had never more clearly wanted to murder her where she stood. If looks could kill...

Better yet, that was before Oliver announced to the team that Katelyn had been injured, and would have to sit out practice for the week. And that it wasn't a guarantee that she would be able to play come next Saturday.

Katelyn swore that Alicia's right eye had developed a twitch.

The rest of practice had been a bit of a blur. Katelyn tried, harder than she had ever tried, to focus on Oliver's talk before warmup. But her ears had been ringing, the air electric with the chasers hovering just feet away, seething with anger. Though Oliver had been the one to report them in the first place, he seemed content to pretend nothing had ever happened.

Katelyn walked laps around the pitch during warmups, trying to make it clear that she didn't want to slack off, but she still felt dreadfully, utterly useless as the rest of the team did the real work. The chasers never did or said anything, even passing her as they jogged, but she could sense them plotting, like tigers waiting to strike.

During practice proper, she decided it would be most appropriate to sit, and try to focus on the team as they flew. To observe, to be present. But even in the frigid November chill, sitting completely still, Katelyn had been sweating.

After practice, Oliver had forced Katelyn to go up to see Madam Pomfrey, because despite being focused on the team, he'd still somehow noticed her going off to the locker rooms to vomit halfway through. He wasn't going to risk angering Pomfrey with so much on the line.

Katelyn had been subjected to another lecture from the matron, and was forced to eat an entire bowl of plain rice under threat of involving McGonagall.

She had left the hospital wing only to be ambushed by Alicia in the corridor on her way back to the common room.

" _I don't know what you think you're playing at, Potter,"_ she'd hissed after freezing Katelyn to the wall with a nasty jynx. " _But you_ _ **are**_ _going to play in the match against Slytherin. And you're going to catch that bloody snitch, or so help me … they'll be digging up your bones one by one for years to come. And if you even breathe a single word to McGonagall there won't be any bones left to find."_

And that was how Katelyn found herself huddled in a bathroom stall, shaking with tears of anxiety as Myrtle hovered over her shoulder. Alicia couldn't really mean it, could she? There was no way someone just a year older wanted to outright kill her over a _game._ She knew that Hogwarts was fanatical for Quidditch but there was no way someone would actually kill someone over it. Would they?

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" Myrtle asked nonchalantly. "Whatever's got you bothered seems very exciting."

Katelyn ignored the petulant ghost, too busy with her own thoughts.

Right now, she just needed to focus on surviving. She needed to be healthy, and calm, so that she would be allowed to play. That was her way out. She just had to make until the game, and do well, so that everyone would think that she wasn't a worthless waste of space.

Maybe if she actually caught the snitch, just maybe, the team wouldn't hate her anymore. At least she might live through the year, anyway.

"I think I'm going to go," she muttered, leaving a slightly put-out ghost behind.

If she could eat another piece of toast or two, she could go up and get to bed early. Rest was important. Food was important too.

Katelyn shook herself back to her senses, realizing she'd abruptly stopped walking in the middle of the corridor.

Down at dinner, with the looming threat of possibly maybe being murdered, she was able to work through two whole pieces of toast, and she was nearly feeling like she could keep it down when -

"Katelyn?"

She looked up to see Hermione hovering over her shoulder, looking nervous. Her hair was only slightly purple now, though it did look like there might be a small chunk missing here and there. She could hear a few giggles from the nearby tables, but Hermione seemed determined to ignore it.

"I hope I'm not bothering you, but do you have a minute?"

Katelyn would rather have put it off, but her day had already been about as bad as they could get. In fact, she felt more exhausted than sick with nerves, so perhaps it was best she just lump everything together. At least she wouldn't have to do it tomorrow.

"Yeah, I guess."

"I wanted to … I wanted to apologize. I -"

"Wait, not here."

"Oh, right!" Hermione said, blushing slightly. "Of course... Maybe we should go somewhere more … Uh ..." She glanced around, catching the eyes of a pair of giggling Ravenclaws the next table over, and blushing further yet.

"Follow me," Katelyn said.

They traveled in stoic silence as she begrudgingly led Hermione through the castle to one of her best hiding places - a big dusty windowsill on the fifth floor, at the end of a corridor that didn't really seem to lead anywhere. Katelyn glanced around, and plopped down on the cool stone, slouching back against the glass. She still felt nervous, even though she'd never done anything wrong.

"Do you mind if I … " Hermione gestured at the empty space beside her, and Katelyn nodded.

"So. I wanted to apologize," Hermione said as she carefully lowered herself onto the sill, about as far away from Katelyn as could be managed with any dignity. She had a weary expression, like she was afraid that she would snap.

What Katelyn did instead, however, was stare at Hermione for a long, awkward moment, unsure if she believed her or not.

"For what?"

"For getting you hurt … for being so mean to you … " Hermione seemed confused that she would have even asked.

Katelyn supposed that Hermione must be feeling conflicted, and that she wanted to ease her own guilt. It was the only thing that really made sense to her. People did all kinds of things to make themselves feel better. Sometimes, Vernon would let Katelyn take a day off of chores, if he'd gotten particularly out of control the night before. She always wondered if Petunia made him do it, but she wouldn't put it past him to a have a sliver of a conscience left somewhere. She was sure that he'd tell himself that it made up for it, if he left her alone for a while.

Regardless, Katelyn didn't have it in her to be petty, or seek revenge, even now. If anything, getting nearly killed by a cave troll had made her less likely to do so.

"Yeah, that's fine," she finally said, figuring that accepting the apology would be a good way to keep the peace. One less person who might decide they also want to kill her.

"Oh - oh," Hermione said. "Are you sure? I … didn't expect you to just forgive me. Just like that."

Katelyn shrugged.

"You aren't going to keep picking on me?"

"No, of course not - I realize that I made such a huge mistake … I never gave you a chance, and I see now that -"

"It's fine," Katelyn interrupted softly. "That's all I care about."

"You mean you can just look past - … I was cruel to you since the first day of class … I almost feel like you _should_ be angry with me, at least a little."

"No, I'm just tired."

Hermione stared quizzically for a moment, before giving her a smile tinged with doubt.

"You know, I had spent hours planning out what I was going to say. And now … well, thank you for giving me a second chance," she said, casting her eyes down self consciously. "I hope we can … er … be friends, maybe."

Now Katelyn thought she was pushing it a bit far. She took a moment to decide whether she should keep playing along. Maybe she was even being pranked.

"... okay, yeah."

"I mean … you don't _have_ to … I just thought that it would be nice, after all you did save my life - oh, sorry, uh … " Hermione quickly glanced around, as if double checking the hallway was still empty. Apparently Dumbledore had talked to her about keeping it quiet. "Would … would you like to be friends, then?"

"Lavender and Parvati will leave me alone?"

"We uh … actually had a bit of a falling out, but I can try."

"Oh. Was that what the hair was all about?"

"Yes … that was them."

"They got that upset over you wanting to study a bit harder?"

Hermione blushed slightly.

"No, it wasn't that," she said quietly. "They were originally going to do it to you - the hair, I mean. I threatened to tell McGonagall, and then I woke up like this."

Hermione gestured to her fading purple hair with a good-natured sigh. Katelyn suddenly felt queasy, unsure what to make of this new information.

"Oh. Thanks for that, I guess. Then yeah, sure."

Hermione looked a bit unsure what to do with herself now that she had 'made amends'.

"Did you … did you want to know why I was so mean to you, at least? I … it would make me feel better, anyway, if I could tell you."

Katelyn had to restrain a wry grin, remembering her earlier speculation. It was all beginning to add up.

"Go ahead."

"Right. I … er … thought you were stuck up … and uh, cheating."

"What?"

Hermione began to blush once more, and nervously launched into her explanation.

"Well … on the train, I tried to say hello to you, and you just ignored me. In hindsight I suppose I was a bit, well, since you were _Katelyn Potter_ , and you probably get the celebrity routine a lot … but you hardly even looked at me."

"I don't remember that."

Hermione cocked her head, her eyebrows furrowed.

"You don't remember? I was hoping to ask why … you mean that you don't remember me talking to you at all, or just that you ignored me?"

"I had a skull fracture that I didn't know about, and it gave me migraines all the time. Madam Pomfrey fixed it when McGonagall made me go see her, but I don't really remember much of the first week because of it."

"So you were just … you didn't even know I was talking to you?"

"I guess not. I threw up though. I remember that."

Hermione made a face of mild disgust.

"Err, anyways, about the cheating. You really don't pay attention to your grades?"

"No. I thought I was going to flunk out, honestly, so I've just been binning most of it without looking. "

She seemed to find that hard to believe.

"You - didn't you ever talk to your professors, or … I mean, you could do all of the charms so well, and - in transfiguration, you almost always - oh, nevermind. What I wanted to say was, that I only ever took your things because I thought you were cheating. It just didn't make sense how you always did so well."

"You could have told McGonagall."

"I did. I actually went to her a few times about you. She didn't believe me, but I thought she was just … er … blinded by … fame. She even bought you a broom."

"Oh."

"So then I took things into my own hands. That's why I took your transfiguration essay, back then. I was casting charms on it to try and detect any sign of magical tampering. Or … when I dumped out your bookbag while you were gone … I was looking for evidence. I really thought you were doing _something_ , and I just wanted to find proof. Lavender was the one who suggested that I make a mess of it, so you'd get discouraged even if I didn't find anything. I suppose in hindsight, maybe she just thought it would be funny."

Katelyn wasn't really sure what to say. She didn't trust herself to know if she was being genuine.

"I know that it was really, really wrong. But I was so _jealous._ There's books written about you, you know. My whole life I've dreamed about doing something worth writing a book about … and there you were, already achieving my wildest ambitions, a year younger than me, outperforming me in class … that was really all I had."

Hermione was silent for a moment, shifting uncomfortably as she considered her words. Maybe she was expecting Katelyn to interject, but she didn't know what to say.

"Well, I know that it's no excuse …" Hermione continued, very quietly. "I know that it was so wrong of me. But I also needed to tell you … when I went through your bag, I never said anything to anyone about the letter. I would never do that, even to my worst enemy."

"Oh." Katelyn blushed, thinking back.

A few weeks earlier, during one of her many tear-stained nights, she'd had the stupid idea of writing a letter to her dead parents. She'd heard once that it was a good way to work through things that were bothering you. Katelyn hadn't written about any of the awful things that were happening, though. No, she didn't want to worry them. She had instead written about the good.

* * *

 _Dear Mom and Dad,_

 _I just wanted to write to say hello, and let you know how things are going. It's hard to believe Hogwarts is real, even after I've been here for two months. The magic staircases, the talking paintings, everything. I still don't think I'm used to it. I got sorted into Gryffindor, just like you two._

 _Classes are going very well. I have to work really, really hard to keep up, but I'm learning so much. I also made the quidditch team (on accident). Professor McGonagall told me that you played too, dad. I hope you would be proud, and not upset. Aunt Petunia always says that girls aren't meant to play sports._

 _Anyways, quidditch is also a lot of hard work. I had to train every day for two months before I could even do all of the warm ups. Our first game isn't until November, but I'm already nervous. I don't want to let anyone down._

 _Well, that's all I've really been doing this year. I don't have a lot of free time. I hope that wherever you are, you think that I'm doing well. Is it strange that I miss you even though I don't remember you? I don't even know what you look like. Well, I love you anyway. I hope I can meet you someday. I'll write again soon._

 _I love you,_

 _Katelyn_

* * *

After writing the letter, she had definitely felt worse for it. She hadn't been able to come up with anything that was truly good. She hated her classes. She hated quidditch. And she hated lying to herself.

She brought her mind back to the present, where Hermione was watching her with apprehension. It was a bit sickening that Hermione knew something so private about her. The letter would have been prime bullying material, she couldn't deny. Maybe that meant something.

"I believe you," Katelyn finally said. "It's fine." She wasn't sure if she meant it.

"So … can we start over? I really would like to be friends."

Katelyn still didn't really believe it. Why would anyone want to be her friend? Pretending couldn't possibly be worse than getting picked on. Maybe keeping Hermione happy would be good for her.

"Sure, friends."

Hermione looked a bit surprised nonetheless.

"Oh! Er- ok. Well, I was uh … I was wondering if I could ask you one last thing."

"Go ahead."

Hermione took another moment to carefully choose her wording, and looked around again to ensure they wouldn't be overheard.

"Why don't you want anyone to know about what happened with the troll?" she said in a half whisper. "After everything settled down, Dumbledore asked me up to his office to tell me that it's being kept a secret. Why wouldn't you want to tell anyone that you saved my life? They're not trying to cover it up, are they?"

"No, I asked them not to. I don't need anymore people talking about me."

Hermione seemed to struggle with that.

"But it's a good thing, Katelyn. You'd be a hero."

"I've been told … but it doesn't feel like I'm a hero. I'd just rather everyone forgets I'm here."

"Well, I suppose it's your right. But I won't forget. Thank you, Katelyn. You really did save my life."

"Don't mention it."

Another awkward beat passed in silence.

"Well, thanks for talking with me, then. I think I'll head up to bed," Hermione said, casting another uncertain glance at Katelyn, who remained silent. "Er … goodnight."

" … goodnight," Katelyn offered in response. It felt funny rolling off of her tongue. She realized she'd never told anyone goodnight before. Well, she'd thought about saying it to the spiders in her cupboard sometimes, but it was always with the fear that the Dursleys would overhear, even if she whispered.

Late that night, Katelyn dug through her bag, and ripped the letter to her parents into the tiniest, smallest pieces she could possibly manage. She tiptoed down to the common room, and threw the pieces in the fire. She stayed to watch them burn.


	6. Chapter 6

\- Past -

* * *

"Katelyn, are you getting up? You'll miss breakfast if you don't get ready soon."

Katelyn awoke with a start, feeling utterly bewildered. She'd probably been having a nightmare, though she could never remember once she was awake. It took her a moment to recall that someone had just been talking to her. It was Sunday morning. No classes. Practice in the afternoon.

"Katelyn, are you in there?"

"Y-yes," she called out, finally recognizing Hermione's voice outside the curtains.

"Oh good. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Should I wait for you?"

"No, that's okay."

"Erm - alright … I'll see you at breakfast then."

Katelyn waited for her footsteps to fade before she dared leave her bed. Despite living in a castle that was bursting from the seams with magic, she thought that might have been one of the strangest things she'd ever experienced.

After a cold, hurried shower, and some fumbling through her small selection of casual clothing (Dudley's old clothes and a few threadbare things from a second-hand shop, naturally) she ventured down to the Great Hall, where Hermione spotted her instantly. Her new 'friend' began waving with frantic enthusiasm, beckoning Katelyn to join her. She was quick to oblige, as Gryffindors and Slytherins alike began turning their heads and snickering amongst themselves.

"Are you feeling well, Katelyn?" Hermione asked as Katelyn sat down beside her.

"Yes, why?"

"Oh! Sorry I just … uh, thought you looked a little … perhaps just a bit … peaky."

Katelyn blinked a few times. What was that supposed to mean?

"I think that's just what I look like," she said flatly.

Hermione flushed slightly.

"Right … I'm … I'm sorry, I didn't … I just … "

"It's fine. I get it."

Or at least Katelyn thought she did, if she was honest with herself. She never looked particularly healthy. Messy black hair and creepy green eyes, a big scar on her forehead - she was as good as ugly, if you were to ask the pretty blonde haired, blue eyed girls at her old school. Or Petunia. Or almost any of the girls at Hogwarts, she supposed.

Maybe Hermione had meant it as an insult, now that she thought about it. Perhaps she was just stringing Katelyn along, and she couldn't help risking a few digs here and there. The thought of it just being one long, drawn out prank seemed likely enough. No, no, that would not surprise her at all.

"Katelyn?"

She looked up to see that Hermione was watching her.

"Were you … I hope … I don't mean to be rude but … were you going to eat anything?"

"Oh."

Right. Katelyn had just been slowly twiddling her fingers as she thought, probably for some time now. Hermione's plate was nearly empty.

"Yeah," she ended up mumbling, before somewhat frantically scanning the table for something unoffensive.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Hermione asked gingerly. "I uh … know that I've given you a lot of trouble about those potions you were taking. I'm really sorry. I can leave if you feel uncomfortable with me here."

"It's fine," Katelyn said as she found a dish of porridge and began spooning it into her bowl. She cursed herself only a few moments later as she realized that she actually would have preferred Hermione leave. Trying to eat was miserable enough without knowing that someone was sat right next to you, paying attention as you ate.

They shared a long, heavy silence as Katelyn suffered through her meal. She hated herself for making such an ordeal of it. How disappointed would her parents be if they could see her now - feeling like she wanted to cry because of some oatmeal. Nonetheless, after what felt like an eternity, she had chewed and swallowed enough to empty the bowl.

"Well," Hermione said, perking up slightly as Katelyn pushed the dish away with a sigh. "Now that that's done, how would you like to swap notes?"

"What?"

"Well, since I missed some of my classes on Halloween because I was … well, you know. I was wondering if you might be willing to … share your notes? I can let you copy my notes from History in return, since you fell asleep during the last two lessons."

She felt a brief pang of embarrassment that Hermione remembered so clearly. History was her one of her worst subjects, if only because it was so hard to stay awake.

"Okay, sure," she said, inwardly wishing she could be alone instead.

They were on their way back to the common room to fetch their bags when they crossed paths with three upper-year Slytherins on the stairs.

"Hey Potty!" one of them said. "Ready for the big game next weekend? I've got three sickles on you breaking your neck!"

"I have a galleon on Higgs finding the snitch before you even remember how to mount your broom!" said another.

Katelyn just kept walking, leaving a pale-faced Hermione trailing behind her as the Slytherins laughter faded down the next staircase.

"Are you alright?" Hermione said once they were gone.

"Yes," Katelyn answered quickly. "I'm fine."

Of course she was fine, even if it felt a lot like she was about to cry. If anything, she was most upset at herself for letting it get to her. She should be well used to it by now.

"I can't believe they would say something like that to you … they don't even know you," Hermione muttered.

"Neither did you."

"I w - well - I …" Hermione said, a bit wide eyed. "Oh, you're right. I'm so sorry. It's not fair to you at all."

Katelyn didn't respond. She didn't want, or need the pity, but she was reminded that she ought to feel grateful that one less person was being cruel to her. Even if her life hadn't gotten any better. It was just more strange now.

Spending time with Hermione turned out to be incredibly tedious. The three hours they spent together seemed to drag on for ages. Hermione mumbled to herself as she read. Katelyn's handwriting was messy, so she had to give her clarifications on the notes again and again.

"Oh, and here, you've written ' _the'_ twice," Hermione whispered at one point, turning the parchment around and tapping the page repeatedly.

"Thanks," Katelyn said dryly, restraining a grimace. That wasn't even a question.

"I'll just cross it off for you," Hermione said, as though it was a grand act of charity.

She didn't answer, turning back to Hermione's notes. Though they were perfectly legible, it was a genuine slog copying them down. It just as boring as Binn's lecturing, but with the constant interruptions and mumbling from Hermione, she was surprised she hadn't been driven spare yet.

By the time they were finished, Katelyn was exhausted, and her brain was going fuzzy. She could hardly think of a time when being bored had also been so draining. The only glimmer of excitement had been when she'd fainted into her book for a moment, and Hermione had mistaken it for her dozing off. Normally it would have been a good thing, as she wasn't meant to be fainting, but Katelyn thought she might have almost preferred getting caught out - a good scolding from Madam Pomfrey might have broken up the monotony.

After what must have been a small eternity, lunch came around, and Katelyn was reluctantly dragged down to the Great Hall by Hermione. She found herself staring down a bowl of soup, hoping that it might drain itself if she concentrated hard enough.

What happened instead was her bowl suddenly exploding into her face.

It didn't take very long for the shock to wear off, as she became aware of the gasps tailing away and laughter beginning to swell. To her credit, she didn't react other than to jump back in surprise. She didn't even look to see who'd done it. She just sat there, feeling the broth dripping down her forehead and off of her chin, waiting until the rest of the room began going about their business again.

Once things had quieted down, she snatched up her bookbag and set out to see Pomfrey about chicken stock hurting her eyes. She supposed this was the break in the monotony she'd been hoping for, at least.

"Katelyn, are - are you okay?"

She jumped slightly, not having realized that Hermione had followed her out of the Great Hall.

"Can I help you get cleaned up? I think there's a bathroom just down here. I know the cleaning charm that should work - "

"I'm fine," Katelyn said for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. "Just going to see Pomfrey. I think some got in my eyes."

"Oh, Katelyn, that's so awful ... Afterwards we should go and report it to Professor McGonagall -"

"No. It's fine." She didn't have the patience for this. It was starting to sting quite badly.

Hermione 'hmph'ed in frustration, but was silent for the rest of the journey.

Madam Pomfrey hardly looked surprised to see Katelyn.

"Hello Miss Potter, and Miss ?"

"Granger."

"Miss Granger. What brings you to my office today? Tell me Oliver hasn't sent you. I'm not going to fall for the crying routine. You'll have your check up on Friday, no sooner."

"No, I uh … " Katelyn flushed, feeling suddenly embarrassed as she remembered that her eyes were watering heavily.

"She has soup in her eyes," Hermione said oh-so-helpfully.

"Soup?"

"Yes, at lunch someone must have -"

Katelyn quickly reached out to grab Hermione's arm, silencing her with a glare.

"Just a bad warming charm," Katelyn said as Hermione's mouth snapped shut.

"You haven't been burned, have you?"

"No, just my eyes are burning a bit."

"Well then," Pomfrey said with long suffering sigh. "Pop on up on the bed, dear, and I'll have a look at you. Miss Granger, you may have a seat and wait over there."

Her eyes were cleaned in a trice, and Pomfrey even managed to banish most of it from her clothes and hair. The matron sent her on her way with a small bottle of Olrig's Otherworldly Ocular Ointment (which she explained was just eye drops).

Katelyn caught Hermione's worried look as they departed the hospital wing.

"See? It's fine," she told her, gesturing at her mostly dried uniform.

"But Katelyn … you really should report it to McGonagall. Who do think did it?"

"It doesn't really matter. Reporting it won't help anything. It's not a big deal."

Hermione made another face that said she strongly disagreed.

"Well, I hope that you'll think about it, at least. And what did Madam Pomfrey mean by checkup? Are you ill?"

"She's banned me from practicing for a week because I was injured. So I'm seeing her Friday."

"But the game is Saturday! What if she says you still aren't fit to play?"

"Yeah. Exactly."

"Oh no, this is all my fault, isn't it? You meant injury from when you were … when you saved me. Oh, Katelyn, I'm so sorry! I - "

"Don't apologize. That isn't your fault."

"But I -"

"You didn't let the troll into the school, did you?"

"Well, no … but -"

"Then it's not your fault. I'd really rather not talk about this."

" … alright. Did you want to go back to lunch? I noticed you never actually got the chance to eat anything." Katelyn nearly groaned aloud. "We could just take some sandwiches and eat them in the common room."

"I'd like to be alone for a bit, if that's okay. Practice starts soon."

"Oh! Oh, y - yes, of course. I'll see you later, then."

Katelyn just nodded, slouching against the wall as she watched her wander off, probably towards the library.

"You know, it would do to be kinder to your friend," said a portrait just behind her shoulder, startling her slightly. "She just seems worried about you."

She turned to see a large, plump man in a frilly hat surveying her as he leaned against a table laden with produce.

"She only feels bad for me, she'd still hate me if I hadn't saved her life."

"That didn't look like pity to me."

Katelyn shook her head, realizing she was about to get into an argument with a painting.

"I have to go, sorry."

After stopping by the second floor lavatory to visit Moaning Myrtle for a few minutes of nervous crying, Katelyn made her way down to the pitch. Having a good cry usually helped calm her nerves, but she still felt sick before she even got to the locker room.

Once inside, she was relieved to see that Oliver and the twins were present as well.

"There you are, Katelyn, can we talk for a second?" Oliver said, breaking away from the group and ushering her back outside.

"O - of course," she mumbled, following after him in bewilderment, as he stopped just beyond the door.

"So I was thinking," he said quickly, "How would you feel about going to Pomfrey after practice and asking her to look you over early? I figured it can't hurt anything, and maybe she'll decide you're good to play?"

"I … "

She felt nausea swelling as she tried to shuffle around the words in her head to make herself sound less pathetic.

"I was actually already in the hospital wing today -" Definitely the wrong choice.

"Not because you got hurt again, right?"

"N-no … I mean, sort of - " She winced at the dark look that suddenly appeared on his face. "No I - just … I got soup in my eye," she muttered, blushing with shame. "It was an accident." Thankfully Oliver seemed less concerned with how daft she sounded, and simply looked relieved that she hadn't been injured further.

"At first she asked if you'd sent me," she continued. "She thought I was trying to guilt her into it, because I looked a bit, well, you know. But she insisted on Friday. I'm really, really sorry."

Oliver sighed heavily, and ran a tense hand through his hair.

"No, no, it's fine. I just thought I should try and ask. Maybe I'll talk to McGonagall again. We still haven't found a reserve seeker."

She nodded, with nothing left say. Oliver had mentioned their lack of a reserve nearly every time he'd seen her since the incident. And all she could do was feel horrible. She didn't know anyone besides Hermione, and she could hardly bear the thought of introducing herself to someone else, let alone trying to recruit them onto the team.

During warmups, she walked the pitch, just like last time. The chasers began occasionally knocking shoulders with her as they jogged past, when they thought they could get away with it, but otherwise she never got worse than their usual glares. It still felt like they were just waiting for the right moment to exact their vengeance.

By the time she'd sat through her second practice on the ground, she had started to wonder if she'd even make it until the end of the week from the stress alone. It still was agonizing to watch the team fly without her, knowing that it would all be her fault if they couldn't play in the match. All her fault. And here she was, sitting on the bleachers, unable to do anything but watch and feel sorry for herself.

After practice ended, Oliver gave another pep-talk to the team, telling them how they wouldn't let any kind of setback (as in, Katelyn) keep them from beating Slytherin in a week. Because they were Gryffindors, and they weren't just brave, they were determined, and capable, or something like that. Not for the first time, Katelyn wondered why she'd been sorted there to begin with.

With practice done, she wandered the grounds, letting the harsh November air flood her to the core. She walked, and thought, shivered, and worried, until the sky grew dark, and she could no longer feel her fingertips. It seemed like a fitting punishment, even if the worst thing that could happen was catching a cold.

Eventually she ambled back into the castle, snuck a few pieces of toast out of the Great Hall, took a long, hot shower, and went to bed. It was only six o'clock, but she just couldn't bear to be awake any longer. Her nightmares really weren't that much worse than the waking world, sometimes.


	7. Chapter 7

\- Past -

* * *

The week leading up to Madam Pomfrey's decision proved to be almost exactly what Katelyn had come to expect.

On Monday, Hermione, her new 'friend', began sitting with her in classes, waving her hand in the air and loudly answering every question possible. In potions, Snape grilled Katelyn on the uses of mustard seeds, to the delight of everyone but Hermione, who, naturally, knew the answers and, more naturally yet, was never called on.

In the evening, she went to see Madam Pomfrey, after Defense class left her with another splitting headache and she could barely keep down her dinner. It only took a calming draught and some pain relieving potion to fix, but she was determined not to mention it to Oliver either way. At least Pomfrey had seemed glad that Katelyn came to her for help. She hoped that it counted for something.

At practice, the Weasley twins announced that they'd finally talked Lee Jordan into trying out as reserve seeker, and that he would be joining them for tomorrow's practice. Oliver was delighted, and pulled them both into a bear hug while the chasers glared smugly at Katelyn, and Alicia drew her finger across her throat.

Tuesday was more of the same. Pansy had come up with some creative new ways to mock Katelyn's hair, glasses, and face in general, which Draco and his friends found very amusing. Just that morning, she'd overheard Lavender making fun of her worn out pyjamas. Hermione had offered to lend her a spare set of her own afterwards, which was somehow even worse.

In the evening, she got to see Lee Jordan fly. He only ever came close to catching the snitch once, but he flew well enough. Afterwards, Alicia was very complementary, and asked Oliver if the team could just keep him instead. While the chasers were gathered around him, laughing at her 'joke', Lee actually gave Katelyn an apologetic smile. So at least he was nice. On the other hand, she noticed that Oliver never denied the possibility of replacing her.

Wednesday was when it truly dawned on her that there were only two days left until her fate would be decided. Up until now, it had felt as if the checkup was a desperate lifetime away. But now, it seemed like a tidal wave, moments from crashing over her. She found herself breaking out into a cold sweat in the middle of History, and she had to slip out to the lavatory before she had a nervous breakdown in the middle of the classroom. At dinner, Hermione offered to share her notes (after relentlessly pestering Katelyn about her wellbeing, and why she had left in the first place).

That night, Alicia hit her in the back with a stinging hex when she ran past during warmups. Katelyn was caught off guard and fell over, but she managed to convince a concerned Oliver that she had just tripped.

Come Thursday, she felt like a ball of nerves, all tangled and twisted and woozy. Two days left. Just one if she could have skipped classes Friday morning to go in early. Hermione had not given up on asking after her health, because it was clear she was not feeling well. Though Katelyn insisted she was _fine fine fine_ , she was eventually forced to let Hermione to escort her up to the hospital wing for a calming draught, after she accidentally set her desk on fire in Charms.

After that nights practice, Lee Jordan sought Katelyn out to apologize, which came as quite the surprise. He said that he didn't want her to feel like he was trying to replace her - he actually thought himself a pretty poor seeker, and really just wanted to be a commentator. She thought they might be friends in another life.

When Friday finally arrived, she was barely holding herself together. She ended up fleeing in tears halfway through that mornings double Potions. She had distractedly given her cauldron three stirs too many, causing her potion to begin belching out great showers of spark and fire, and Snape to start berating her. Witnesses might have said that Snape ordered her out of the room first, but in the ensuing chaos it was hard to say.

After she calmed down (perhaps pulling out a fistful of hair or two in the process), she used the rest of the double period to trudge her way up to the hospital wing for what she could only hope was the last time.

"Miss Potter," Pomfrey said as she opened the door to her office. "Aren't you meant to be in class?"

"I got kicked out."

"Professor Snape?" the Matron said knowingly. "Well, come in then, and let's have a look at you."

She sat Katelyn down and began tutting and tapping away with her wand. An enchanted quill hovered nearby, occasionally scritching down a note or two as Pomfrey circled about.

"Have you you been getting enough sleep, Miss Potter?"

"Not really, no."

Pomfrey paused for a moment to confer with the quill, which had begun scribbling more energetically as the matron worked.

"Are you eating well?"

"As much as I can manage."

She gave Katelyn a stern look, but continued the examination.

"Alright, stand up please," Pomfrey said after another minute. "I'd like you to do some star jumps while counting down backwards from ten."

Katelyn shrugged off her robes, and started performing the exercise. She felt a bit daft, but managed it easily enough. After that she was made to balance on one leg, and then the other. Pomfrey took out a strange brass instrument that seemed to measure the dimensions of her head, which would occasionally chirp and puff out steam. All the while, the Matron continued to hum, and tut, and mutter to herself, and occasionally check in on what the quill had been writing.

"All right, Miss Potter," she said after Katelyn had finished clumsily reciting every other letter of the alphabet while balancing a stack of books. "You're still showing some signs of lingering injuries, but I can't see any reason that you shouldn't be able to play."

It hit her like a wave, that swept up from her feet and into her chest. There was still hope.

"I … I can play?"

"You'll need to wear a helmet while you fly for at least the next month, however."

"That's great," she said, unable to feel anything but relief. "Am I free to go then?"

"Yes, but ah - Miss Potter?"

Katelyn paused at the door.

"Do try not to make me regret it, won't you?"

"Yes ma'am. And thank you."

There were still ten minutes until lessons let out and lunch began, so Katelyn camped out in the hallway of the Charms classroom. While she waited, she marveled in the big empty space inside of her, that only a few minutes ago had been taken up by a massive, angry knot of anxiety and fear. She felt so strangely light that it was a bit dizzying.

Once the bell chimed, she got to her feet, and tried not to act nervous while a large group of fifth years passed by on their way out. After a moment, Oliver appeared amongst the students emptying out of the room. His eyes went slightly wide as he spotted her, and he quickly stepped aside to talk. They watched the crowd trickle down the hall before he finally spoke.

"Katelyn, you've seen Pomfrey?"

Oliver had never looked so nervous.

"Good news or bad news?" she asked him, feeling surprised at her own cheekiness.

"Good news," he said slowly.

"I can play!"

Oliver picked her up in a bear hug and began spinning her around before she even knew what was happening. She probably would have screamed if she wasn't frozen in shock.

"Katelyn! You've done it!" he cheered. "The house cup is good as ours!"

When he finally set her back down, she could feel herself flushing from head to toe. It took a concerted effort to stay on her feet, she was so woozy.

"Sorry, got a bit carried away," Oliver chuckled, noticing her dazed expression. "But wait, what's the bad news?"

"I have to wear a helmet for a month," she said breathlessly, forgetting she'd meant it as a joke in her stupor.

Oliver laughed brightly, and she sighed in relief as feeling slowly began returning to her extremities.

"I am really glad you can play Katelyn. I'll have to go break the news to Lee though. He's a great bloke, but …" Oliver looked around before leaning in and whispering, " … he makes a rubbish seeker."

"He won't mind," Katelyn said to herself as Oliver went off in search of their backup seeker.

Hermione finally caught up with her once she ambled down to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Katelyn, there you are!" she said with relief, taking up the seat next to her. "Where have you been? I searched everywhere for you."

"I went to see Pomfrey."

"You had your checkup? How did it go? Are you going to be able to play tomorrow?"

"Yeah, all clear."

"Oh Katelyn, that's wonderful! It would have been so disappointing if you'd missed out on the first game of the season."

Katelyn thought 'disappointing' might have been the understatement of the year, but she nodded her agreement all the same.

"Oh also … Professor Snape told me that I have to give this to you."

She produced a scroll from within her bookbag. Katelyn took it, and reluctantly prized it open.

 _Detention. My office. Saturday at six o'clock. No exceptions._

Katelyn stared at the words, feeling shocked and yet oddly grateful that he'd chosen _after_ the game instead of during it. She risked a glance up at the head table to catch him sneering in her direction and quickly returned her gaze to the table in front of her.

"What is it? Are you in trouble?"

"Detention, after the game tomorrow."

"Oh that's absolutely dreadful Katelyn! It was just an accident, you didn't mean to disrupt the class."

"I can still play, so it doesn't matter."

The emotional high of learning she was allowed back in the air (and from Oliver spinning her around like a ragdoll) been slowly wearing off. She tried to focus on eating something substantial, rather than worrying about the game, or the detention afterward.

The rest of her classes for the day were a bit of a wash, with so much on her mind, but she supposed that it was more important to focus on quidditch, so that Alicia wouldn't maybe probably murder her.

That evening, the last practice before the game, Oliver's announcement that Katelyn was back was met with stony silence. The twins offered her a sheepish thumbs up, and Katie Bell made an odd face that might have passed for a smile on a good day. Katelyn didn't care however, because she was finally back in the air.

Just maybe everything would work out.

* * *

Katelyn should have known. They were booing. She knew it was for her. She looked up at the stands and instantly regretted it. There were posters - " _Potter sucks!" "Potty is a phony."_. One massive banner showed a crude depiction of Katelyn with crossed eyes and lopsided glasses, which had been enchanted to move so that she was picking her nose. Even Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were pointing and laughing.

The team was all staring at her now. She didn't want to look back at them. She didn't want to know what expressions she might find. Oliver knelt down in front of her, but she couldn't look at him either.

"Hey," he said in a voice that she didn't know he had. It was gentle, like a parent soothing a child. "Don't listen to that rubbish Katelyn. You're gonna prove them wrong. We believe in you. I believe in you. Do you know how many of those idiots you could fly circles around?"

He paused for dramatic effect.

"Each and every one. You're one of the best players I've ever seen, and it's time you show them too. Okay?"

She could still hear them jeering. Professor McGonagall looked outraged, and appeared to be berating a smug Professor Snape in the teachers stand.

"Okay," she said, not meeting his eyes.

"That's my girl," he said, patting her on the shoulder with smile. "Now let's go stomp some Slytherins!"

Katelyn tried, and failed, to ignore the taunts and laughter as they took to the field. Madam Hooch was talking, but she couldn't do more than pretend to listen. Her ears were ringing. She felt like she was suffocating under the stupid bloody leather helmet.

Her team mounted their brooms, and she numbly followed suit. She tried to focus on their plan. Stay out of the way. Don't get hit by a bludger. Catch the snitch. Only an idiot could mess it up.

The whistle blew, and before long she was soaring above the crowd, taking solace in how small they all looked from high above the pitch. How she could no longer understand the words.

* * *

She didn't really know where her feet were taking her but she knew that she needed _away_. Anywhere else but here. Her ears were ringing with the cheering of the crowd, her whole body numb and hot and cold at the same time. Her pulse pounded like her heart was about to beat right out of her chest. She barely remembered changing out of her uniform, frantically cramming her equipment back into her locker.

Once outside she broke out into a run, back to the castle.

"Katelyn wait!"

She didn't stop until she reached the second floor bathroom, where she collapsed against the wall beside the basins in a heap, sinking to the floor and pulling her knees up to her chest. Myrtle was absent, but only a moment later Hermione caught up with her, panting for breath.

"K … Katelyn …" she wheezed.

Katelyn couldn't hold back the tears any longer, shame be damned, and began sobbing raggedly into her knees while Hermione stood, leaning on the nearest stall for support. After catching her breath, Hermione walked over, and sat down beside her.

Katelyn cried, and cried, for what felt like hours. Someone really, truly wanted her dead. Her Nimbus hadn't just been malfunctioning - when Oliver and the twins had tried to grab her it had intentionally flown her out of reach. She couldn't get the image out of her mind - looking down, the ground hundreds of feet away. If her fingers had slipped, if her strength had given out just a few moments earlier, she would probably be dead right now.

It wasn't a prank. It wasn't cruelty. Someone out there hated her so much that they would try to kill her, in front of the entire school.

She thought about quitting the team, but Alicia and the chasers would probably kill her instead. She thought about dropping out of school entirely - but her relatives would probably … well, she still had panic attacks thinking about having to go back, sometimes. There was nowhere to go, nothing to do. There was no way out.

Eventually, she became too tired to cry anymore, and the fear, and anger, and shame began to subside, enough that she could think clearly again. She could hear the sound of a dripping pipe, and Hermione's slow, steady breathing.

"I thought it was really brave of you, you know, to keep playing," Hermione said softly. "It must have been so scary. I don't think I could have done it, if I was in your place."

"Thanks," Katelyn mumbled automatically, listlessly rubbing at her eyes.

"And then you won, Katelyn. It was a bit unorthodox, but you did it."

"Yeah, I guess I did." The victory felt hollow. No matter what happened, someone was going to hate her. She would never truly win. "What time is it?"

"Let me see … it's about a quarter to six."

"Oh … I have to go meet Snape."

"Oh, Katelyn, I uh - are you sure you're okay to be going? You still seem really shaken up … I could talk to Professor McGonagall for you. I'm sure she can convince Professor Snape to reschedule."

Hermione suddenly seemed very tense.

"No, it's fine. He'll probably just yell at me some more. I'll be fine."

"I just don't think it's a very good idea for you to be serving detention after such an ordeal … too much undue stress and all that. You really should be resting - or maybe I could go with you?"

Katelyn frowned.

"No. I'm okay, really. It's just detention," she said firmly, setting off before she could start acting any stranger. "I'll talk to you later."

As she trudged down to the dungeons, her other problems helped put Hermione out of her mind. She remembered that she hadn't eaten since breakfast. She wondered if Snape would give her another detention if she fainted. She tried not to think about what he had planned as her punishment.

Katelyn arrived outside his office with three minutes to spare, and knocked on the door twice.

"Enter," came Snape's voice from within, making her jump slightly.

Katelyn tried to tell herself that she didn't have a good reason to be afraid. What could he do besides torment her a little bit more? Filch often moped about how he wasn't allowed to use any particularly cruel punishments anymore. With a deep breath to steel herself, she pulled the door open and peeked inside.

Snape's office was dimly lit, crowded with shelves of glassware and potions ingredients. Every flat surface seemed to be covered with books and scrolls of parchment. The professor sat behind a large desk, which was likewise cluttered with papers. He barely spared her a glance as he continued to write.

"Sit," he said, briefly gesturing at a small desk and chair that had been pushed off to the far corner of the room.

She did as instructed, and waited in silence, listening to the scratching of his quill. It seemed like minutes, if not hours, before he finally spoke again.

"Well … I do hope that I haven't cut your _celebration_ short, Potter," he drawled, setting aside his quill. "For your detention, you'll be writing lines."

"Yes sir."

Snape flicked his wand at her desk, and a large stack of blank parchment appeared alongside a quill and inkwell on her desk. Another flick of the wand and, at the top of the first page appeared the words: ' _I will let neither my inattentiveness nor my stupidity jeopardize the safety of myself or my classmates_.'

"You will copy it until I am satisfied. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

She set to work copying the lines, wondering why he hadn't come up with a worse punishment. She'd overheard plenty of stories about how awful his detentions could be, so it was almost suspicious that he'd chosen something so tame. Surely he would have wanted her scrubbing out cauldrons by hand, or dissecting something foul.

Writing lines ended up being a bit of a blessing, as repeating Snape's little mantra in her head as she wrote kept her mind from wandering back to her would-be killer, and her impending doom. The sentence was a bit insulting, but she couldn't exactly disagree with the sentiment.

She had just gotten started on her third sheet when there was a knock at the door.

"Enter," Snape called.

To her surprise, it was Hermione who opened the door. If she hadn't been watching closely, she might have missed the brief wave of relief that swept over her features at seeing Katelyn sitting nearby.

"Miss Granger, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Snape said with more than a hint of sarcasm.

"G-good evening professor … I was er - just wondering if I could ask you about the - the homework that you assigned for Monday."

"Yes?"

"Well … er, in the paragraph describing moon seed, it says that it's most potent when harvested on a full moon … but is the full moon relative? What about cloud cover, or different time zones?"

"That information," he said, making no effort to hide his annoyance, "is in the appendix, which I would be alarmed to find you had not read through at least several times already."

"O-oh, I must have missed it, sir, I'm very sorry. I'll go check there." She then made a show of pretending to notice Katelyn, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of discomfort and confusion. "Oh, I didn't see you there Katelyn! Are you well?"

" _Miss Potter,"_ he cut in before she could answer, "is serving detention, as you very well may know, having delivered the notice to her."

"Of course, I must have forgotten it was this evening … "

"I'm fine, Hermione," Katelyn said placatingly, realizing that Hermione must have come to check on her, and wondering what had her so concerned that she would risk the professors wrath.

It gave her plenty to think about while she copied yet more lines, as she completed her eighth page, and had practiced enough that she hardly had to think about it anymore. She began noticing patterns in Snapes behavior, where he might huff in frustration and hunch over his desk slightly, and make some very angry strokes with his quill. He was probably grading some very poor essays.

As she neared her tenth page, there was another knock at the door. Snape flicked his wand and it flew open, revealing a startled Hermione, with her hand still held aloft in mid-knock.

"Miss Granger," the professor said, his voice nearing a growl, "if you do not have a very, _very,_ good reason for disturbing me, you will find yourself joining Miss Potter for detention this evening, and every evening for the next two weeks."

Hermione blanched, mouth hanging open slightly.

"I uh … just … er ... nevermind!"

She abruptly turned tail and scurried back down the hallway, and Snape loudly slammed the door shut with his wand.

"Whatever you two are plotting," he said in a low voice, "I would _strongly_ _suggest_ you reconsider, or you will be doing far worse than lines."

"Yes sir."

She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be plotting either, but thankfully Hermione did not seem inclined to further test his patience. Detention remained wholly uninterrupted and uneventful through another three pages of parchment, to the point that she started practicing her penmanship to keep her mind occupied.

"Miss Potter, if you were planning a hunger strike, it may behoove you to know that I can simply conjure food, right into your stomach if need be."

"What? Er … sir?"

The professor sneered at her for a moment, and then, as if on cue, her stomach growled loudly.

"Oh." She often forgot how good she'd become at ignoring it over the years. How long had that been going on that he would say something? "I'm fine, sir," she insisted, only for a sandwich to appear on her desk with a quiet pop.

She couldn't help but stare at the professor in poorly concealed bewilderment.

"I haven't poisoned it, Potter. No, I can think of far better ways."

Hardly feeling reassured, she took a small, nervous bite, before returning to her lines. She was on her nineteenth page (and less than halfway through the sandwich) when the inkwell finally ran dry.

" … professor?"

He continued to write for a moment before he finally looked up.

"I'm out of ink," she said, holding up her many parchments.

Snape took a conspicuous glance at the clock. It had been nearly three hours.

"I think that will suffice for the evening."

"Yes sir."

She stiffly rose to her feet, stretching and yawning.

"And tell Miss Granger that it was wise of her to wait outside rather than to continue to disturb me."

"Pardon, sir?"

"Out, Potter. I've had more than enough of you for one day, if not several weeks."

With her face set in deep confusion, she stepped out into the corridor only to find Hermione standing there, looking stressed. She seemed to be holding her breath up until Katelyn closed the door to Snape's office.

"Oh thank goodness Katelyn," she said with a frantic sigh. "I was going spare waiting. Are you okay?"

"Yes, why?" Katelyn said, her legs feeling very stiff as they began to walk back to the common room.

"I uh … how was your detention? Do you feel well?"

"It was a bit weird, I guess. He gave me a sandwich."

"He … he gave you a sandwich? And you ate it?"

Hermione stopped on the middle of a staircase, looking utterly horrified.

"Well, he told me that it wasn't poisoned. It wasn't awful."

" _He_ _told you it wasn't poisoned?!_ " she cried in exasperation.

"I feel fine, Hermione. What's gotten into you?"

"I …" she made suppressed groan of anxiety, clearly in great inner turmoil as she pursed her lip and furrowed her brow in deep thought. "Okay, okay, let's find somewhere private."

A few minutes later, they had secured an empty classroom, and Hermione had coaxed Katelyn into sitting down.

"I didn't want to tell you at first … you already seemed so distressed from today but … well, I think Snape was the one jinxing your broom at the match."

A cold weight dropped into her stomach.

"Oh God … why?"

"When your broom was acting up, we saw him in the teachers stand. He was muttering to himself and staring at you … he wasn't even blinking."

"We?"

"Oh, well, Ron Weasley sat next to me at the game. He's been working up the nerve to apologize to me all week, apparently. He was actually very sweet. But nevermind that! We saw Snape incanting, so I went over and snuck under the bleachers … I er - may have set his robes on fire. And then, just like that, your broom went back to normal."

"But I … he … I was just with him for hours. He could have easily tried to kill me then."

"Well, we knew you were there. If anything happened it would have been far too suspicious."

"And that's why you kept coming in … you thought he was going to ... oh God … "

"I'm so, so sorry, I shouldn't have let you go down there at all but I was second guessing myself and I didn't want to scare you … so I didn't know what else to do but try to check on you. I hope I didn't get you in any more trouble."

"You're sure he was the one jinxing my broom?"

"Well, it went back to normal the moment he started trying to stamp out the fire. It doesn't seem like a coincidence to me."

"Oh God … he said he could think of better ways …"

"What do you mean?"

"The - the sandwich he gave me … he said ' _I haven't poisoned it. I can think of better ways.'_ Oh my God … maybe he was serious."

"I don't know Katelyn, I really don't know. Maybe we should tell McGonagall."

"No, she'd never believe us. There's probably serious consequences for falsely accusing a teacher."

"I … yes, I suppose. And I doubt I'd be able to admit that I started his robes on fire. Oh, but we'll have to be careful, okay? We'll at least keep an eye on him."

"Yeah … "

* * *

It was another restless night for Katelyn. She couldn't shake all of the awful feelings. Shame from the taunting crowd, or from nearly choking on the golden snitch instead of catching it. More than that was the abject terror she'd felt clinging to her broom for dear life as it tried to buck her off. Only to find out that the culprit might just be the professor who seemed to openly loathe her, and she had spent hours alone with him without knowing.

But most of all, Katelyn had given everything she had to make someone - anyone - proud, or even just to get them to despise her a bit less, and she'd nearly been murdered for her efforts. Sometimes, she wasn't sure why she bothered.


	8. Chapter 8

\- Past -

* * *

After the fiasco of the Gryffindor-Slytherin quidditch match, Katelyn's life changed very little. She became a bit of a running joke amongst the school (" _Hey Potter, I've got an idea for where you can stick the next snitch you catch!_ " Pansy had called out to her last week, while Draco had opted for " _You're such a lousy flier even your broom doesn't want to be near you!"_ ). Even though she had technically won the game for Gryffindor, no one seemed to remember anything but her Nimbus trying to buck her off, or her spitting out the snitch after tumbling to the ground.

Besides that, she was still struggling to accept the reality that, at any moment, Professor Snape might attempt to kill her again - and trying to pretend that it didn't bother her, so that Hermione would stop pestering her about it. If she was honest with herself, it didn't seem like there was much use in trying to avoid it. He'd come so very close, it was hard to imagine he would fail a second time. There were so many ways to kill someone with magic. She was losing a lot of sleep over it, to say the least.

As December rolled around, she thought she might have finally resigned herself to her fate. She was keeping up with her classes again, now that the team was back to only practicing three times a week, and the chasers no longer appeared to want to strangle her where she stood. Best of all, she didn't feel like having a panic attack just from being in the same room as Snape. It was as a good place to be as any if she might die at any moment.

"Katelyn, I see you signed up to stay over holidays," Hermione said at lunch one day, while taking a conspicuous peek at her plate to ensure she was actually eating.

Katelyn tensed slightly. Even though her involuntary friend had been acting overly nice since the game, it was still hard to fight the habit of anticipating an insult. Just that morning in Potions, Draco had been bragging loudly about how he was going home, and how excited his parents were to see him. She knew it was for her. She'd seen him looking to her for a reaction like he always did when he was being cruel.

"Yeah, I'm staying."

"Hey, I'm staying too!" Ron chirped from across the table. "My parents are going to visit my brother Charlie in Romania. The rest of my brothers will all be here too."

"Oh, that's nice," she said, inattentively prodding a sausage with her fork.

Ron had been folded into her weird pseudo-friendship affair with Hermione after he'd worked out that she was the one that had been nearly flattened by the troll, and he'd finally apologized at the quidditch game. Funny how guilt tended to do that to people.

Katelyn thought she might prefer Ron slightly, as he wasn't quite as sharp as Hermione. Pretending to be friends was far easier when she didn't have to think through her actions and responses so carefully. Ron just accepted whatever she said with a shrug and a smile. He was apparently the only one that had actually been impressed by her quidditch performance, too.

Katelyn was likewise relieved that Hermione was going home for the holidays, so she could finally have some time to herself. The bushy-haired girl probably didn't mean any harm, but still felt the need to follow Katelyn around like a strange mix between a babysitter and puppy.

Now that she was no longer wasting hours a day trying to fit in with Lavender and Parvati, Hermione had soared back to the top of their class standings, mercifully unseating Katelyn from the coveted title of 'know-it-all teachers pet loser'. This, naturally, meant that she spent her spare time comparing notes and studying with Katelyn (whether she wanted to or not), likely trying to make up for the months of torment. She had also taken it upon herself to make sure that Katelyn stopped skipping meals, and sneaking out late at night to wander the corridors when she couldn't sleep.

However, the worst part was pretending to smile, all the time. It was exhausting. Before she'd learned how, Hermione had taken up the habit of asking Katelyn how she was feeling at least once a day, to the point that she started worrying that she eventually might snap and actually tell her. So instead she would smile, no matter how tired she was, no matter how much worse it made her feel.

"Katelyn?"

"Sorry, I was distracted. What were you saying?"

"I was just asking what you and your relatives usually like to do for Christmas."

"Oh," she murmured, trying to look thoughtful as she came up with a convincing story. She figured a half truth was worth a shot. "We didn't really celebrate it, to be honest. I - we - always just stay home like usual. Watch tele, that kind of stuff."

"Oh my," Hermione said dramatically. "Katelyn, that's terrible!"

"You don't do Christmas?" Ron said in disbelief.

Of course, it wasn't remotely true, but crying in her cupboard while the Dursleys bickered over a plastic tree was hardly what she would call celebrating.

"What about gifts?" Hermione said. "You must have done presents, at least."

"No, we didn't really … I mean, I got socks once?"

"Katelyn!" Hermione gasped. "That's hardly a gift. I meant nice things, frivolous things, like candy or toys, books maybe. My parents would always get tickets to see a play, or … I mean … sorry, I don't mean to say it's wrong if you didn't do gifts, though. I just … it seems a little … oh, what am I saying …"

Both of her 'friends' looked distinctly awkward now, and Hermione seemed very embarrassed to boot.

"It's fine, it doesn't bother me," Katelyn said. "I don't need any of that stuff."

"Well it's not meant to be things that you need - … I … no, you're right. Forget I said anything."

Ron was gracious enough to switch topics by pestering Hermione about homework help for the second or third time that day. Katelyn was more than content to let their words trickle through her head as she devoted her attention to cleaning her plate. It still hadn't gotten any easier after all these weeks.

* * *

All too soon, the Christmas break began. Hermione bid her a long, uncomfortable farewell, and made her promise not to do all of Ron's homework for him. There was no quidditch practice, and all of her homework was already done (thanks to Hermione, of course). Katelyn felt empty and purposeless with no daily slog to keep her crawling forward. Worse yet, with nothing to do, she had no excuse not to spend time with Ron.

She held little ill will towards the lanky red haired boy, but the trouble was that he loved doing normal things, like having snowball fights, reading joke books, or playing wizards chess. Katelyn had just planned to sleep, and rest her perpetually sore body, but now she was getting roped into all sorts of unimportant activities that she would never have bothered with herself.

She didn't mind going down to visit Hagrid, who was one of the few people who was ever nice to her, but she was dreadful at chess, and didn't really see the fun of throwing clods of snow at one another.

Worse though, was that Ron liked spending time with his brothers, who Katelyn resented. In her opinion, it was worse that they didn't hate her, but instead avoided her because their friends did. She would have preferred they just hate her too. It was less confusing that way.

But now, without having to worry about the Chasers approval, the twins were almost overly nice to her, which irked her even more, because made them seem ... pathetic. Guilty. Always people feeling guilty and trying to make up for it. Instead of just being good to begin with.

Still, she forced herself to be polite to them, since, on paper at least, they hadn't technically done anything to her. It was really her fault anyway.

* * *

On Christmas Eve, she found herself toasting marshmallows over the fire with Ron in the common room. It was as good a way to pass the time as any. Ron would see how many marshmallows he could stuff into his mouth at once, which was gross yet strangely fascinating at the same time. It was always entertaining to watch him argue with Percy when he would come down from the common room and try to scold him, and they would bicker and threaten to involve their mother, but she was in Romania so it was every brother for himself.

When he wasn't fighting with his siblings, Ron could talk about nothing for hours. Katelyn supposed it was far better than talking about herself, so she would provide ample 'mhm's and 'ah's to encourage him to keep rambling about whatever he thought was interesting or worth complaining about.

Katelyn was tossing marshmallows into the fire, watching them turn from brown to black, while Ron was conducting an experiment to see what kind of cheese complimented them best, when the twins stepped through the portrait hole.

"lo' Fred, George," Ron said from a mouthful of Gouda. His scrunched up face suggested he was still far from a winning combination.

"Hey Ronniekins," they said in unison, then, "Hello Katelyn, our lovely Gryffindor princess!"

"Hello," she said, before turning back and tossing another marshmallow into the fire. She thought she heard the two sigh, which felt good in a petty sort of way. Maybe someday they would stop bothering. Nevertheless, she put on a brave face as the two helped themselves to some of Ron's unsavory cheese and marshmallow monstrosities, before excusing themselves to go find some real food.

"Katelyn … do you not like my brothers?" Ron asked a few moments later, after the two had ascended the stairs.

"Hm? Why?"

"I don't mean to pry … but you just seem awful short with them is all. They usually get on well with everyone … or Gryffindors, at least, but I get the impression that you're only pretending that you like them."

Now it was Katelyn's turn to sigh.

"I … I don't know Ron."

"What is it?"

"They just annoy me. It's nothing."

"Have they pranked you? They're always playing tricks on me. Once they transfigured some dung into fudge and got me to eat it … except they only changed how it looked."

Ron scrunched up his face, as if recalling the flavor very vividly.

"No, it's nothing like that. Forget it. It's not a big deal anyway."

"Well, alright, then. But you can tell me if you want."

" … thanks, Ron."

"Christmas morning is tomorrow, you know."

"I do. You've said … four or five times already today."

"Sorry."

"I don't mind."

"So … are you excited?"

"Sure."

Ron studied her for a moment, and Katelyn failed to dream up an expression that even vaguely resembled excitement - if anything she just wound up looking sadder than usual.

"You really don't celebrate Christmas, do you," he concluded dejectedly.

"No, sorry."

"Well, we'll make this a good one, alright?"

"Sure."

* * *

Whatever Katelyn had been expecting when she finally got out of bed on Christmas morning, it certainly wasn't a small pile of presents at the foot of her bed. She had _presents. Plural._ If it wasn't for how absurd everything else was at Hogwarts, she would barely believe she had received even one.

Yet, things could never be so simple for Katelyn. Instead of feeling whatever a child was supposed to feel when faced with gifts, she felt a horrible, crawling anxiety. What had she done to earn them? What would be expected in return?

After a moment, she carefully slid off her bed and sat down to investigate. There were three lumpy parcels wrapped in brown paper, one very small, and two that were roughly the size of textbooks. But the most notable of all was a very large box in glittery silver wrapping, with a note that read 'To Katelyn, from Hermione and the Grangers'.

Oh how she wished that she didn't have to open it. That she could just pretend the box had somehow gone missing, or never turned up. To say 'What box?' when Hermione returned.

With a heart heavy from apprehension, she slowly pried apart the wrappings, to find a plain, simple cardboard box. Inside was … clothes. A massive pile of what appeared to be brand new, store-bought clothes. There were wrapped packages of plain t-shirts, two sets of sky blue pyjamas, as well as blue jeans, underwear, a knit hat, scarves, mittens, sweaters, a winter coat, and at least a dozen socks.

Suffice it to say, Katelyn was overwhelmed, but not in a good way at all. She knew that she was supposed to feel happy, but instead it was … crushing. Heavy. Like she was being punished for doing something wrong. After staring at the contents of the box in shock for nearly a minute, she noticed an envelope, and warily reached in to open it. Inside was a card, which read:

" _Katelyn,_

 _Happy Christmas!_

 _As you can see, my parents have gone a bit overboard. I mentioned (in passing!) that some of your clothes were a bit too large, and maybe a little worn out, and then they started interrogating me. I'm really, really sorry, but I couldn't lie to them. I hope I haven't embarrassed you. I promise none of us will ever tell anyone that we bought anything for you. And don't worry for a moment about the price! You may remember that my parents are both dentists, so the cost is no issue. They've already heard about you from my letters, and they insisted that we get you some things. Dumbledore had apparently already told them about the incident with the troll, so they know it was you. They said they hope they'll get the chance to meet you someday, but to consider the clothes a small gesture of gratitude in the meantime._

 _Again, I am truly sorry if you feel uncomfortable receiving so much when we've barely been friends for over two months. You don't have to get me anything in return (I mean it!), I just hope that you can use it all. We kept the receipts, so we can always exchange if something doesn't fit, too._

 _Have a pleasant Christmas break, and I'll see you soon._

 _All the best,_

 _Hermione_ "

Katelyn whipped the card back into the box, stifling a cry of frustration. Now Hermione's parents also knew how pathetic she was too. They knew that all of her baggy, secondhand shirts were fit to fall apart, and her sweatpants were five sizes too big, and that all of her socks had holes, and they'd never even met her.

She turned back to the box, trying to force herself to somehow come to terms with it. To her chagrin, all of the price tags had been removed, so Katelyn didn't even know how much money they had spent on it all. It must have been a hundred pounds or more. The jacket was even name brand, from the kind of shop Aunt Petunia would brag about to the neighbors after she'd successfully nagged Uncle Vernon into taking her shopping.

The worst part of it all was that Katelyn would have to wear them. She couldn't just decline such a massive, deliberate act of generosity. Hermione would probably never forgive her if she spurned their charity. Katelyn knew she had money, in her parents vault, if she'd only ever thought to take a little for herself to use, but she really did only have two pairs of underwear that weren't fraying somewhere, and not a single sock without a hole.

But now she would have to be seen wearing a shiny new set of sky blue pyjamas, or her life might once again fall into complete ruin.

Suppressing another cry of helpless anger, she slumped down and laid on the floor for a good five or ten minutes, letting the shame wash over her. She wondered how many other people had noticed. She wondered who else was secretly pitying her, thinking she was no better than a grimy street urchin. As if that wasn't bad enough, she also had the thought that it was probably utterly pathetic to be so upset over it in the first place. She was supposed to feel grateful, but instead she just wanted to run away and never return.

It dawned on her that she had more gifts to open still, and she felt like being sick. They couldn't all be this awful, could they?

After opening a flute carved out of wood from Hagrid, and a hand-knit sweater and homemade fudge from the Weasleys, she hardly felt better. The only gift that seemed to feel right was a small envelope from the Dursleys, which she nearly missed altogether, that had contained a threatening note, some paper clips, and two pence.

The last gift, however, she didn't open. The package was lumpy, wrapped in brown paper, just like the sweater, but it was feather light, and had no name written on it - not even her own. Quirrell had once mentioned something about booby-trapped gifts from would-be assassins, and she didn't want to die a horrible, painful death from opening a cursed package from Snape, or anyone else. She could think of plenty of ways to die that were better than being strangled to death by an evil scarf or a haunted tube sock.

So she put it aside, and after wallowing in self-pity for another ten minutes or so, forced herself to don the sky-blue pyjamas from Hermione, and threw the thick emerald green sweater from the Weasleys on over top for good measure. The blue and green glashed horribly, and the sweater was a little bit scratchy, but she had to admit that it was all very warm and soft compared to the baggy, threadbare sweatshirt her uncle had 'given' her years ago (after her aunt had pulled it out of the rubbish bin).

Ron was camped out on the sofa waiting for her when she finally dared venture down the stairs to the common room.

"Happy Christmas Katelyn!" he called out brightly.

There was a package of sweets in his lap, and he looked exceptionally cheerful.

"Happy Christmas, Ron," she returned, taking her customary seat on the opposite end of the sofa from him, thinking that maybe she could absorb a little of his cheer.

"You'd never believe what Aunt Muriel sent me," he said, trying to sound sound cross but not properly succeeding.

"Hm?"

He held up an old book that looked very careworn, titled, ' _The Young Gentleman's Guide to Proper Posture and General Etiquette_.' He flipped it open to a page with an animated drawing depicting a boy strapped into a thick metal back brace, who looked to be in a great deal of pain.

"She's mental, I tell you," he said, putting the book aside in lieu of some chocolate cauldrons. "You should see the stuff she gets the twins."

"Are you just eating candy for breakfast?" she asked him, unable to help feeling a bit bemused as he stuffed an entire chocolate cauldron into his mouth at once.

"Mmmph - well - mm - " He paused for a moment to chew vigorously. "It's a Weasley tradition to eat a bit of your candy Christmas morning."

"A bit?" Katelyn asked dryly, looking at the mess of wrappers strewn across his lap.

Before Ron could rearrange his next mouthful of sweets to respond, the twins emerged, arms linked, both wearing matching sweaters in royal blue, with G and an F on their respective fronts.

"Merry Christmas!" they called together, before spotting Katelyns own sweater.

"Ah, look, Mum's made Katelyn a sweater too!" said one.

"Looks a lot better than ours," said the other.

"Why haven't you got yours on, Ron?"

The youngest brother held up his own, in a deep shade of crimson, and grimaced.

"She _knows_ I hate maroon," he moaned, dejectedly pulling it over his head.

"Now that's the proper Christmas spirit!"

Percy came down to inspect the commotion, and they were treated to a spectacle as the twins forced him into his own sweater. They then chased him out of the room, imitating their mother and chiding him for not being grateful.

"Well let's go down and have breakfast, eh?" Ron said cheerfully, putting the lid on his nearly empty box of chocolates. "I'm starving."

She nodded, and followed him through the portrait hole. She felt properly grateful for the thick sweater and pyjamas as she tagged along through the chilly corridors of Hogwarts.

Down at the table, the twins were still nagging Percy, insisting he sit with his family instead of the other prefects who had also stayed for the holiday.

"Are you feeling alright?" Ron asked, as his brothers continued to bicker.

"Yeah, why?"

Ron flushed slightly.

"I dunno … just, at Christmas you're supposed to feel all cheerful and stuff. You still seem a bit down in the dumps."

"I guess I am a little."

"What is it? … Are you homesick? Do you miss your relatives?"

"No, it's not that." Definitely not that.

"Sorry, I don't mean to pry," he said, suddenly looking a bit embarrassed.

"That's - no, it's okay." She didn't really have a reason to be down in the dumps, when you spelled it all out. She had gotten presents, she was safe and warm, most of the people who despised her were gone … but it just didn't feel right. It never did.

Nonetheless, she redoubled her efforts to act a bit more cheerful to keep Ron from worrying, and thought she did a passable impression of a happy person up until lunch. Faced with the prospect of _another_ meal, she finally excused herself from the Weasley brothers, and went to the library.

Once inside, she could see Madam Pince at her desk, surrounded by towering piles of tattered and battered books. Judging by the cross look on her face, she was not happy with their treatment by the students. She did, however, seem to calm down ever so slightly as Katelyn approached.

"Getting a head start on your homework?" she asked with a thinly veiled tinge of disbelief.

"No ma'am," Katelyn said, opting not to mention that she'd finished it all already. "I'm looking for a book on detecting curses."

"Curses? What sort?" Pince asked impatiently. "Trimble should have written plenty enough on it for a first year essay."

"I looked through it already - I was hoping there was something specifically about cursed gifts."

Pince's eyes narrowed slightly.

"You haven't been making enemies have you? Should this concern the headmaster or your head of house?"

"N-no … I just er … think it might be a prank gift. It's from the Weasley twins," she lied, thinking as quickly as she could.

"Ah, of course it is," Pince said, as though that made it perfectly clear. "I have just the thing."

She scurried off, and returned just a moment later with a small book bound in black leather.

"This should cover just about anything from dark curses to minor nuisances. And you make sure those two don't lay eyes on it, or they might start getting ideas."

"Of course. Thank you."

"Happy Christmas, Miss Potter."

"O-oh. You too, Madam Pince."

Katelyn headed straight back for her dorm. She had a lot of reading to do.

* * *

"Ron, are you awake?"

"H… huh … wuzzgoin'on?"

"Can I ask you a huge favor? I'll help you with your homework for a whole week."

He seemed to wake up a bit at that.

"Hmm? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just need you to look at something for me."

"What? Not like, girl stuff right?"

"No. I can't really explain it. Would you come with me?"

"Mmmph … can't it wait until morning?"

"It's really important. I swear it's all I'll ever ask for. Please?"

He sat up a little, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and gave her a funny sort of look.

"Have you been crying?"

"No," she said quickly. "I'm just really tired. Please, Ron."

"Well … alright then. Let me get my slippers. But I'm still taking you up on that week of homework."

"Thank you," she said, forcing herself to smile a little.

She tried not to fidget nervously as she waited for Ron to use the bathroom and put his slippers on. Her heart was pounding, but she didn't want to alarm him. It seemed like an eternity before he finally returned.

"I'm ready," he said. "What are we doing?"

"Here, come stand under this with me." She pulled the cloak out of her pyjamas and unfolded it.

"Blimey …" Ron said, face lighting up in awe. "That's an invisibility cloak …"

"Hm? Oh, it was with my … my presents," she said quietly. "Should I not have it?"

"Who was it from?"

"Uh … it didn't say. But it's definitely not cursed. I checked."

"You checked?"

"Am I going to get in trouble for the cloak?"

"I don't think so, but they're super rare. It's probably worth loads."

"Oh, I see. I'll be careful with it. Now, can we go?"

Ron seemed much more excited to be up in the middle of the night now that he was sneaking through the corridors under an invisibility cloak.

Katelyn, on the other hand, felt incredibly jumpy, and it was all she could do to remember how she found the abandoned classroom in the first place. She had been on the second floor, hiding from Filch … then down the next flight of stairs … aha! They'd finally stumbled across the suit of armor that she recognized.

"This is the room," she said, carefully pushing the door open and pulling it shut again behind them as quietly as she could.

"What's in here? What are we looking at?"

"Here," she said, gesturing at the massive mirror.

"This? What is it? A mirror?"

"Just tell me what you see when you look into it."

He frowned slightly, in concentration.

"It's not cursed, is it?"

"I looked into it," she said simply. "And I'm fine."

"Right."

With that, he finally stepped in front of the glass. And just like when she'd first seen it, his eyes immediately lifted in wonder.

"Woah … I'm head boy! And I've won the house cup! Do you think this mirror shows the future?"

"No," she said quietly, trying to keep her voice steady as her mind began running wild with possibilities. "At least I didn't think so … "

"Oh. What did you see?"

She didn't think she could produce the words, even if she wanted to.

"People," she said slowly. "Just people."

"Oh," he said, furrowing his brow, but not looking away from the mirror. "Total strangers?"

"Yeah," she lied. "No one I've ever met."

"Weird. I reckon Dumbledore or McGonagall would know how it works. Err - do you mind if I keep at it for a bit? I look _really_ _good._ "

"I'll wait."

So she sat, trying not to cry, for five or ten more minutes. She began to worry that the mirror might be sucking the life out of Ron, from the dazed look in his eyes, only she knew that she had sat there for more than an hour herself. She supposed that Ron probably had an actual soul to steal, so maybe it was a bigger risk for him.

She had mentally compiled a long list of subjects to search for in the library when Filch's cat stalked into the room.

"Oh, hi Ms. Norris," she murmured as the cat quietly jumped onto the desk, and she obligingly reached over to stroke her fur. She knew from her time with Miss Figg that almost all cats love getting their chins scratched, and Ms. Norris was no exception.

"Miss - Miss Norris?" Ron said loudly, finally tearing his eyes away from the mirror. "You're friends with Filch's cat?!"

Ms. Norris hissed in his direction, while Katelyn rolled her eyes.

"Don't mind him," Katelyn said. "I'll make sure he doesn't break anything on our way back."

Ms. Norris gave her a look that said " _Or it'll be on your head."_ before slinking back out of the door.

"Alright Ron, time to go."

"What, she isn't going to snitch on you to Filch?"

"No, she will. But she likes me, so I usually get a bit of a head start. C'mon."

* * *

"Do you want to play chess?"

"No."

"Go down to visit Hagrid?"

"No."

"Set off some of Fred and George's fireworks in Filch's office?"

"Very funny."

"I know you're still thinking about that mirror," Ron said with a sigh. "You really shouldn't go back. I've got a really bad feeling about the whole thing."

"Yeah," she said, listlessly rubbing the soft fibers of her Weasley sweater between her fingers. "You're probably right."

"C'mon, let's go see what the twins are up to."

"Sure," she said, not bothering to suppress a long suffering sigh.

* * *

"Back again, Katelyn?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin. It must be nearly three in the morning. Despite more or less promising Ron she wouldn't return, the pull of seeing her parents had been far too strong to resist.

"I'm sorry -" she said quickly, scrambling to her feet. "I just - I didn't mean to …"

Dumbledore raised a calm hand, and she fell silent.

"There's nothing to apologize for, my girl," he said gently.

She realized she had been crying again, and quickly wiped the tears away with the sleeves of her pajamas.

"I take it that you know how the Mirror of Erised works?"

"I'm … I'm not in trouble?"

"I won't begrudge you a bit of curiosity, my dear girl, though I would still suggest you exercise caution if you find yourself taken to the occasional bout of nighttime wandering. Now, the mirror?"

"Oh, sorry, sir. It … it doesn't show the future, does it?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

That's what she had been afraid of most of all. She tried not to let the hurt show.

"Then it just … it just shows us what we want. The things we want most."

Dumbledore smiled a sad, gracious smile as her heart sank to the lowest it had ever felt.

"Very well said, Katelyn. Now, do you suppose the things that people want are always possible?"

She looked up at him for a moment, perhaps feeling stupid that she had thought he might give her hope.

"No. The thing I want isn't possible, is it?"

"What do you see in the mirror, Katelyn?"

"My … my parents. They're in the mirror with me."

Dumbledore nodded sadly.

"I am very, truly sorry, Katelyn. Even magic, in all of its wonder and splendor, cannot bring them back."

"They're gone, forever," she told herself aloud.

"In some ways, perhaps, but they will always be with you in spirit."

She looked at him again, trying to understand.

"The ones we love never truly leave us. They will always be here," he said, placing a hand on his heart. "It may seem far fetched, but, consider the many ghosts of Hogwarts. They remain, while others, like your parents, moved on. So, yes, they may not be here, but they are far from gone."

"Oh," she said in a very small voice. "I see now."

Her mind was whirling, but she managed to nod along as Dumbledore asked her not to go in search of the mirror after it was moved. She didn't know if she could bear not seeing them again for so long. For her whole life.

* * *

"Katelyn, you alright?" Ron asked at breakfast.

"I'm fine," she said, thinking that he was beginning to sound a lot like Hermione. He was somehow less annoying, though, even if he was asking all the same questions. "I just didn't sleep well."

"You didn't go back to the mirror again, did you?"

"It's gone now."

"It's gone? Oh. Do … do you want to talk about it?" he said, a bit uncomfortably.

"No, that's okay. I think I want might want to be alone for a while, though. Do you still have your homework? I've done all of mine ages ago and I need to take my mind off of something."

"You don't actually have to do all of my homework for a week, Katelyn. I can do it. Honest."

"Oh … alright. I'll see you later, then."

Katelyn spent the rest of her day wandering about (interrupted by regular bouts of crying). She made a short trip to the library, but didn't have the nerve to look for anything about bringing back the dead. She knew deep down that Dumbledore was telling the truth, and confirming it by doing proper research would only squash the naive little spark of hope desperately clinging to the back of her mind.

When she returned to the common room after dinner she was surprised to see Ron, looking dead-tired, and bored senseless, hunched over several textbooks. She could also see a dozen crumpled up wads of parchment strewn about the room from where he'd apparently given up and started over.

He looked up and smiled at her.

"See? I can do my own homework without help," he said sheepishly.

Katelyn stooped down to see that he'd mostly been doodling stick figures, and had written a measly foot of parchment for his Potions essay, if you measured generously.

"Okay, scoot over," she said with a small sigh. "Let me help."

Ron made a show of insisting he could do it, but they both knew it was for the best that Katelyn took over. Besides, she really, really needed something else to think about, even if just for a little while.


	9. Chapter 9

\- Past -

* * *

It was Saturday night. The students would be returning tomorrow, and classes resuming the day after, but Katelyn was wide awake. Unsurprisingly, she was crying.

She'd just woken from a nightmare. The same one she'd been having almost every night since she first saw the mirror. Her parents, begging, pleading - before they disappeared in a flash of green light, their final screams drowned out by mad, cackling laughter.

Though she was quick to regain herself after waking, the pain was unbearable. Each morning reminded of what she didn't have, and could never have. Each morning, the hole in her chest, in her very soul being torn open a little wider. The black chasm of emptiness somehow growing a little deeper.

Even awake, Katelyn was not safe from it. Since the moment she'd first laid eyes on her parents in the mirror, she hadn't been able to get the image of them out of her head. Every time she closed her eyes - no, even when they were open, she could see them in the reflection, smiling at her. Her mother's bright green eyes, that were just like her own, yet beautiful and inviting rather than haunting. Her father's messy black hair, and his easy smile that was so different from the tortured imitation of a grin that Katelyn usually managed.

She remembered so clearly how she had been overcome with emotion when she first met Hagrid, and he revealed that her aunt and uncle had lied. Her parents were actually _good people_. They hadn't been a pair of drunks that died in a car crash. They'd _cared_ about her. Katelyn had never known how much they meant to her, and for just a little while there had been a reason to keep going on.

She could remember wondering if maybe everything else they'd told her was a lie too, and there was actually someone out there who could love someone like her. Someone who could truly care about her. Maybe her whole life could change.

Of course she knew that she'd been wrong now. The only people who'd ever loved her were gone. The only people who would ever love her were in the afterlife, just waiting for her.

When she wasn't thinking about her parents, she was thinking about her own reflection. She was haunted by her mirrored self, looking genuinely, truly happy, sandwiched between her smiling parents in the mirror. She wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes. She looked so healthy. So free.

Suddenly, Katelyn was out of bed, throwing on her invisibility cloak and sneaking off to the library. She had to do some searching, in the restricted section most likely.

* * *

When the sun began to rise, Katelyn was still sat on the floor between the rows of forbidden books, with a half dozen of them sprawled around her underneath the cloak. Her eyes were bleary and her limbs wobbly as she began carefully packing them back away. Madam Pince might be waking up to start fortifying the library for the students return soon. But it was okay, because she'd found what she needed, and memorized exactly where to find it again just in case.

She crept back through the castle, narrowly avoiding Peeves as he chased Ms. Norris down the corridors with an oversized bucket of soapy water. She pulled off her cloak once she made it to the stairs leading up to the Fat Lady, who was fast asleep in her frame.

"Excuse me," she said, gently knocking on the wood.

"H-huh? What?" The Fat Lady said through a deep yawn, then, with resignation as her sleepy eyes fixed on Katelyn, "Oh, dear, what have you gotten yourself into this time?"

"I was just at the library reading, I promise."

She stared Katelyn down for a long moment.

"I have half a mind to report you to the headmaster, you know, sneaking about at all hours of the night. Goodness knows I've let you get away with it long enough. Couldn't you just read during the day like anyone else?"

Katelyn sighed.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just … it was important. And it's been almost a week since last time."

Now it was the Fat Ladies turn to sigh.

"Well, alright, I suppose there's no harm ... but once the term starts back up, you'll be in at curfew or there'll be trouble. I mean it, young lady."

"Yes, ma'am. I really am sorry."

"Yes, yes, dear, of course. In you get, before I change my mind."

* * *

Just a few short hours later, she heard Ron coming down to the common room, and went to meet him. She was quite sure that he'd started making extra noise as he came down the stairs, so that she would hear. She wasn't sure what to make of that.

"M … mornin'," Ron yawned, stretching out on the sofa as she came over.

"Good morning."

Katelyn sat opposite, trying to ignore how he was staring at her, likely debating whether or not to confront her over how tired she must look.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

"Just fine," she lied.

To her relief and surprise, he left it at that.

"My parents got back from Romania yesterday," he said happily, changing the subject with ease. "They sent pictures. Do you want to see?"

"Sure."

And, because she was feeling grateful, Katelyn acted like the best listener she could be, as he scooted closer and began thumbing through a big stack of moving photos. She said 'oh' and 'mhm' at all the right times, and even gave a 'wow' for a photo of a great big purple dragon that was blowing fire at the camera ('took one of dad's eyebrows off, that one did,' said Ron). She finally got to see Ron's happy smiling family, all hugging and laughing with his older brothers, and she pretended that it didn't make her want to cry.

She'd never have believed she would be so glad to hear him say, "So, do you wanna go get breakfast?" by the time he finally finished.

The students returned later that day. Katelyn had changed out of her pyjamas and into a pair of jeans from Hermione, and put on her Weasley sweater. It was an odd feeling. Most weekends she would have worn her uniform when she had to leave the dorm, because it was better to be a swot than to let anyone see her in baggy, oversized sweatpants and stained t-shirts from the Dursleys.

"Oh, I think I see them!" Ron said, peeking out the window that overlooked the grounds. "Yeah, here come the carriages, let's go down and wait for Hermione!"

So they trekked down to the entry hall, where they were joined by the twins, who were waiting for Lee Jordan. Katelyn mechanically exchanged pleasantries with them, going so far as to pretend to pay attention while they talked with Ron about something to do with quidditch.

The conversation was interrupted when, at long last, the grand set of doors to the hall opened. A small crowd of students, all bundled in jackets and scarves, swept inside with a gentle gust of winter air. Katelyn and the Weasleys stood off to the side, peering through the open doors to look for their respective friends.

One of the first to come through was Alicia Spinnet. She spotted Katelyn, and her face lit up in a wicked grin.

"Hah, nice sweater, Potter! I think brown suits you better, though," she said, stopping to hug the Weasley twins on her way out.

Katelyn kept her expression blank as Ron looked to her in confusion. It could've passed for a bit of banter if Alicia hadn't looked so smug. Unsurprisingly, things only got worse from there. Just a minute later, most of the Slytherin quidditch team came through together.

"Nice sweater Potter," Bletchley called out. "They don't make them in twig size?"

"She might drown in that thing if she's not careful," said Higgs.

"Probably extra padding for the next time she falls off her broom," added Flint.

"Here's to hoping there is a next time."

Her cheeks burned red as the team laughed and laughed, their voices carrying on down the corridor.

It wasn't long before she found herself dearly regretting the decision to stand there like an idiot as the entire school marched past. She really hadn't thought it through.

"Wow, Potter, you have jeans? I honestly figured you just slept in your uniform," Pansy said with a sneer when it was her turn to strut by.

"Aw, the little Weasleys have given you a sweater, eh, Potter?" said Draco as he came through just behind her. "You know it's bad when you're accepting charity from them. Must have been a month's salary, that yarn."

"Sod off, Malfoy!" Ron growled.

The blonde shot a last sneer over his shoulder before walking off, laughing with Crabbe and Goyle.

"Pansy's was cleverer anyway," Katelyn muttered, her face still flushed.

"We don't have wait here," Ron suggested under his breath, watching as the twins reunited with Lee. "Could go back up to the common room … "

He trailed off as Lavender and Parvati passed by.

"Oh, she does own real clothes!" Lavender giggled. "I'd always wondered."

Katelyn bit her tongue as the two walked away.

"I'm fine right here," she said to Ron, imagining the two girls giggling and gossiping on their half of the dorm late into the night. "They're just joking."

Other students, Slytherins mostly, gave her nasty looks as they passed. By the time most of the school had come through, the tension in the air was thick. She'd forgotten that Ron probably didn't know how bad things were, the clueless, lovable idiot that he was.

"Are you sure you don't want to just meet her later?" he insisted nervously, after a seventh year Slytherin gave them both the stink eye, whispering to his friends about a curse he knew.

"No, there she is," Katelyn said as she finally caught a distant glimpse of a bushy head of hair that was slightly squashed by a set of fluffy pink earmuffs.

Ron breathed an audible sigh of relief as Hermione stepped fully into view from behind some older Hufflepuffs.

"Katelyn, it's so good to see you!" she said, making an awkward, slight movement with her arms as if about to reach out, then quickly pulling them back to her sides - "Hello Ron! Sorry to keep you waiting, I got one of the last carriages. Did you both have a nice holiday?"

"It was great," Ron answered immediately, regaining a bit of the cheer he'd lost during Katelyn's insult parade. "You should have seen the feast! And my mum sent photos they took in Romania - you'd never believe the size of some of the dragons Charlie works with! Oh, I haven't brought them, but I'll show you later. And - "

Before he could continue on, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas came through.

"Ron, Dean says he's brought a real scorpion back with him!" Seamus called out excitedly. "Snuck it into his trunk!"

"Oh, do you mind?" Ron asked a bit guiltily, as the two boys stopped to wait for him.

"Yeah, go ahead Ron," Katelyn said, though Hermione looked a bit annoyed with him.

She didn't blame Ron from wanting to get away. He deserved a chance to spend time with some normal people after two whole weeks cooped up with no one but his older brothers and the nutty Katelyn Potter for company. She was glad that she hadn't ruined his social life like she had Hermione's.

"So, how was your holiday, Katelyn?" Hermione asked as they walked back together.

"It was ... good. Thank you for all of - well, you know. I'm really sorry I didn't get you anything."

"Oh goodness, don't mention it," Hermione said with a big smile and a deep sigh of relief, "I swear I didn't mean to bring it up, and I tried everything I could think of to talk them out of it. I hope we haven't offended you."

"No, it's okay," she lied. She'd nearly come to terms with it by now. "It was very kind of them. And you … so … thanks."

"There's no need to thank us, Katelyn. I'm so grateful for what you did for me."

It took a moment to remember that she was referring to the troll attack. If you thought about it that way, some clothes did seem like a fair repayment for saving her life - that and acting like her friend instead of tormenting her at every opportunity. Did that make them even? She supposed that it didn't matter, really.

"Have you been staying up late again?" Hermione asked, slightly out of the blue, "I should have known you'd take up the habit again the moment I left."

"O-oh, sorry … I was just up reading."

"Katelyn, I was teasing you," she said more softly. "Though you do need to be resting properly, I'm not actually mad at you."

"Right. Right, okay. Sorry."

"Does that mean you haven't finished your homework?" Hermione ventured.

"No, it's done."

"You weren't up doing Ron's, were you?"

"No," she lied. Technically she'd done it earlier in the week. "Just for pleasure."

"I'm surprised at you Katelyn," said Hermione, making sure to exaggerate that she was teasing this time. "I'd never have figured you would read for enjoyment."

"I'm full of surprises."

* * *

When classes began on Monday, life resumed more or less as normal. Some of Katelyn's favorite Slytherins had apparently spent their holiday brainstorming new insults, but as they hissed and snickered at her during Potions, she found she was beginning to enjoy it in some weird, twisted way. It felt … right. Fitting.

"Let's make a bet, Tracey," Pansy was saying in an overly loud stage whisper, "Which do you think is lower: Potter's marks in Potions or her IQ?"

"What's an IQ?" said Tracey.

"Don't listen to her, Katelyn," Hermione grumbled, opening her book with a lot more force than was necessary. "She wouldn't be able to figure the right amount of Iguana claw to add if you wrote it down and taped it to her face."

Katelyn reminded herself to make the sound that felt like laughter.

" _Something funny, Potter?_ " Snape said. Apparently she'd slightly overdone it.

"Sorry sir, just my face," she replied automatically, unable to stop the words leaving her mouth.

"Katelyn!" Hermione hissed under her breath as Pansy and Draco both hunched over their desks in silent laughter. What she'd said didn't even make sense, when she thought about it.

"Five points from Gryffindor for cheek. Any further _disruptions_ from you today and it'll be another detention."

She could practically feel the glares of the other Gryffindors boring into the back of her head, but she mostly regretted that she hadn't at least said something clever to make it properly worthwhile.

"Sorry," she mumbled to Hermione under her breath.

"No, it's alright," Hermione said, "but remember what we talked about last time? You don't want to chance another detention do you?"

"Oh, you're right. Sorry."

* * *

That evening was the first Gryffindor practice since before the holiday, so Katelyn expected nothing less than for Oliver to run them all into the ground. He would undoubtedly want to make up for lost time before their next game against Hufflepuff in February.

She entered the locker room to her usual greeting (of silence, snickering, or staring, much like it was anywhere else she went) and wasted no time getting herself dressed. Once she was finished, she was treated to one of Alicia's finest smug looks. Oliver was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, Potter, over the hols I was thinking of some other ways that you could catch the snitch," she said as Katelyn warily went to join the team. "There's these things called _hands_ , you see … "

She couldn't finish her sentence for laughter, but Katelyn wasn't particularly upset. Pansy had already made the same joke ages ago, and done a better job, she thought. Even Katie and Angelina didn't laugh as much as they usually did.

"Hey, Alicia, can you give her a break?" came the voice of one of the Weasley twins, to her utter surprise.

Alicia looked stunned for a moment, before her cocky grin returned.

"Whatever you say, Fred," she scoffed, going off to her locker to polish her broom a bit more, though it probably didn't need it.

Fred looked to Katelyn and gave a sheepish, insecure thumbs up. She could hardly believe any of it had actually just happened. Sure, he was still a complete arse, but she didn't want to discourage the behavior, so she reluctantly returned the gesture. Fred grinned like an idiot until Oliver finally arrived and began going over all of the new drills he'd come up with. Sometimes, when their captain launched into an unbearably long explanation of strategy, the team began to look so miserable that Katelyn almost felt like they were all on the same side, even if just for a few fleeting moments.

* * *

"Oi, Katelyn!" the twins called out to her after practice, as she walked alone back to the castle. "Can we talk to you for a second?"

In hindsight, that thumbs up had probably been a terrible idea. Regardless, she figured it wouldn't do much good to ignore them, so she paused for a moment to let them catch up.

"We wanted to apologise," the twin on her right said as she resumed her walk.

"We've been a pair of utter gits," said the left.

"Alicia and Angela have been way out of line,"

"And we were too afraid to step in,"

"And risk our friendship."

"We were hoping they'd warm up to you eventually,"

"But obviously it was more than a bit naive."

"We've been talking,"

"And we finally decided that something had to be done."

"So we wanted to apologise,"

"And promise that from this moment forward,"

"We'll stand up for you,"

"Even if it means severing ties with our best lady friends,"

"Because you're an absolutely spiffing seeker,"

"And you deserve better."

"So, will you accept our humblest of apologies?" they said in chorus.

They paused, waiting with baited breath as Katelyn continued to walk.

"Okay," she said, because really, it didn't matter anymore. She'd gotten it into her head recently that it would be nice to have some more people to come to her funeral. She had even been considering forgiving Neville for being a bumbling idiot and a coward, because sometimes he tried being nice to her when no one else was around. Hopefully Ron and Hermione would come, but she'd understand if they didn't want to. "Apology accepted."

"Well that was easy," they sighed in unison.

"Is there any way we can make it up to you?" asked the one on the right.

"That is, make up for us being tossers for the entire term?"

"Come to my funeral," she said without thinking.

 _Oh no_.

Surely she'd just given up the game - but then -

"We'd be delighted to," they chimed, without missing a beat.

"As long as you reserve us front row seats,"

"And schedule it for after we've won the house cup."

"Yeah, you'd best catch the snitch against Ravenclaw first."

"Then you can plummet to the ground without a care in the world."

Did they really think she was joking?

"Will there be punch?"

"Yes, of course," she said, deciding she might as well go along with it.

And that was how Katelyn found herself spending the rest of her evening planning her funeral with the newly-befriended Weasley twins, who didn't know she wasn't kidding, or didn't care if they did. There would be fireworks, music and dancing, and the twins swore that they would try their hardest to convince their brother Charlie to bring a dragon along to light a funeral pyre. She thought they might have actually gotten along in another life.

That night, Katelyn practiced tying knots with a shoelace. It was the most excited, and terrified she could remember feeling since learning she was a witch. From her midnight journeys to the restricted section, she'd found the very best knot to use, but she thought she might have to go back and look at it again soon. She'd read that it was good luck if there were exactly thirteen loops, but she simply couldn't get the length right, so there were either far too many or far too few, and she wondered if she was getting a step wrong altogether.

"Katelyn, are you awake?"

She gasped involuntarily, scrambling to stuff the shoelace underneath her pillow. Despite her better judgement she wound up sitting atop the pillow for good measure.

"Y-yes," she finally answered. "Is something wrong?"

Hermione often pretended to have some reason to disturb Katelyn in the night, so that she could make sure she was in her bed. It had eventually just become part of Katelyn's routine.

"I'm really, terribly sorry, but … can I talk to you for a second?" Hermione said quietly.

"Yes, sure."

With a deep, steadying breath, she pulled back the curtain, to see Hermione standing there with a tear glistening on her cheek. Before she could think to say anything, however, she saw Hermione taking note of her awkward position, defensively perched atop the pillow.

"Were you writing another letter?" she asked gingerly.

"O-oh … " Katelyn muttered, internally rejoicing that Hermione had provided her with an out. "Yeah, sorry. It's just embarrassing."

"It's alright, Katelyn, you don't have to show me. But you're probably smushing it up."

"Too late now," she said with a shrug.

Hermione smiled sadly at that.

"Well, anyways … I was wondering if I could talk with you about something."

"Sure, what?"

"Well, you see … after classes today I got a letter from my parents … and my … " Hermione sighed deeply, wringing her hands together. "My grandmother just died today."

"Oh. I'm sorry," Katelyn said as Hermione began to cry. "Would … would you like to sit down?"

She nodded and plopped down on the mattress, hugging her knees to her chest. Katelyn pulled her curtain shut.

"I feel like I was only just really getting to know her …" Hermione sniffled. "We only visited them once a month or so but I'd never talked to her properly until recently."

Katelyn was silent, feeling completely out of her depth and entirely uncomfortable.

"She had such interesting stories … she was in London for the bombings. She met my grandfather in the hospital after he was hurt … oh and now he'll be so alone … she was such a sweet, wonderful woman … and I was just getting to know her. I saw them just a week ago, you know, for Christmas … "

Hermione continued to cry, and wonder aloud what she was going to do with herself for a long while. Katelyn had nothing helpful to say, so she remained quiet. She wondered how she would have felt if she could truly remember her parents dying, rather than just having nightmares of it that she'd made up in her head. She supposed it would be worse. She wondered what happened to her grandparents. Hopefully they were dead too, because she didn't want to believe that they just didn't want her.

After what felt like a very long time, Hermione stopped crying. Katelyn handed her a tissue (she always kept them on hand, naturally).

"I'm sorry to be putting this all on you Katelyn … " she said, looking a bit embarrassed as she wiped her nose. "I hope I haven't been a nuisance."

"It's no problem. Are you … ?"

"Yes, I feel much better. Thanks for listening to me."

"Anytime," she said, though she'd rather not repeat the experience. Hopefully Hermione's grandfather would live a while longer.

After Hermione went back to her own bed, Katelyn continued to practice her knots for another half hour or so, and she nearly got the length right. It was odd, she thought, because as she finally laid down her head and braced for another night of horrible dreams, it felt like it hadn't been such a bad day.

* * *

It was a week later. Katelyn was feeling the most excited she thought she'd ever felt. She had perfected her knot, and even found a big rope in an old dusty classroom in the dungeons. It was a lot like first coming to Hogwarts. She'd felt equal parts afraid and eager, looking upon a glittery horizon full of hope and terror at once.

Pansy had tried to trip her down some stairs the other day - no - had succeeded in tripping her down some stairs - but even after seeing Pomfrey to have the bruises healed, she hardly felt bothered. Alicia, Draco, Flint, it didn't matter. She felt invincible, because she knew that they could only bother her for a little while longer.

"Katelyn, what's gotten into you?" Ron asked, pulling her attention back to the bowl of soup in front of her. "You seem especially chipper today."

"You're not plotting revenge against Pansy are you?" said Hermione. "I can't believe she got away with that. Professor Snape must have seen it, he was right there!"

Katelyn realized that she'd been doing something weird with her face. It had felt unfamiliar.

"Sorry," she said reflexively. "No, no, I'm not plotting anything. I just thought of something funny."

"Snape falling down the stairs?" said Ron with a snicker, earning himself a smack on the arm from Hermione.

Katelyn was mindful not to let her face do anything abnormal from then on. She didn't want to make anyone suspicious.

* * *

Another week passed. Pansy tried and failed to jynx Katelyn's skirt down in the middle of the great hall, but later succeeded in burning off a considerable chunk of her hair. Draco challenged her to a duel for the third, maybe fourth time that year (Ron offered to be her second). The twins began openly protecting her from Alicia's taunts (though Alicia seemed to be trying to catch Katelyn alone in the corridors again). Hermione came to her at night crying about her grandfather being depressed.

By the end of the week, Katelyn thought she was ready. It truly felt like the time was right. There wasn't anything left for her to see, or do. She'd hardly accomplished anything, sure, but then she didn't really care to. What was the point?

Sometimes, instead of having nightmares, she would dream of being with her parents. Her mother would sing to her. Her dad would take her out flying as the sun set. One evening, she dreamed that they were sitting around a table, that was neat and tidy, but somehow so different from Privet drive. Her mother's cooking was so incredible - she couldn't remember enjoying anything as much in her life - not her first time flying, not when Hagrid had blown down a door and given her a chocolate cake - when she woke, she couldn't even remember what the meal had been. But she remembered asking for seconds.

That morning, she thought she might finally be ready. Today might be the day. She smiled and nodded as Hermione babbled, or Ron made a joke about something or other. Snape said that their potion was dreadfully wrong, but Katelyn was hardly listening - Hermione would know how to fix it anyway. The day passed in a blur, and suddenly it was past midnight. She was stood barefoot in a cold dusty classroom, her hands unconsciously mimicking the motions of tying the knot as she took stock of the room.

She had decided. Now was the time.

It felt like an eternity before everything was ready, but in the end she wound up tying the best knot she had ever tied. Exactly thirteen loops with no extra length. It had been much easier than practicing with her shoelaces. Katelyn's legs were trembling, and her hands shaking as she carefully climbed atop the chair. The rope caressed her neck, like a strange musty embrace from a big, scratchy snake. Like a friend.

She thought she saw a silvery light flicker out of the corner of her eyes as she steeled herself to do what she'd been longing to do for weeks - months - years even - … but that might have just been because she was crying. No matter.

With one last incredible surge of willpower, she kicked away the chair, and the rest was history.


	10. Chapter 10

\- Present -

* * *

"Good morning Katelyn."

With a jolt she was wrenched out of a shapeless nightmare, her hands flying to her throat as she gasped for air. The room began slowly spinning to a stop as the lingering feeling of rope around her neck faded and she finally remembered where she was.

It was only a day after she'd attempted suicide. Morning light was gently trickling into the hospital wing. She looked up and accidentally met Professor McGonagall's eyes, quickly turning away as her cheeks flushed hot with shame.

"Are you alright, dear? I'm sorry if I frightened you."

"F-fine … just a bad dream."

The silence hung heavily. She wasn't naive enough to think McGonagall couldn't put two and two together.

"You're welcome to talk with me about it if you'd like, Katelyn."

McGonagall was speaking softly, in a gentle but patient way that put Katelyn at ease, yet also made her hate herself that much more. She'd caused all of this.

"I … no, that's okay," she said, failing to sound any better than she felt. Her voice was raspy. "Thank you, professor."

"I'm always ready to listen if you change your mind. Now, why don't you get ready? We've had some of your things brought up. I'll be right here waiting for you when you're done."

Right. Today was the day. She was going to have to see the mind healer, or therapist, or whatever they were called.

Katelyn had barely left the bed since she'd first regained consciousness yesterday. She was lost, tumbling between nightmares when she could sleep and bouts of crying when she was awake. She just couldn't stop bloody crying, and it was maddening. Even now, she wanted to burst into tears, simply because the small pile of clothes on her bedside table consisted entirely of her Christmas gifts from Hermione.

Worse yet, she'd been under almost constant supervision since the first time she woke. Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore had taken shifts sitting at her bedside all of yesterday. Madam Pomfrey had even moved her brewing stand and cauldron out into the wing so that she could watch over her while she worked.

Though the professors meant well, Katelyn really would have liked a little time alone. She couldn't see herself dashing off to drown herself in the bathtub the moment they looked away. She couldn't see herself doing much of anything. What were you supposed to do with yourself after something like this? Maybe the healer would know. The only upside was that Pomfrey had been exceptionally patient about her eating habits, because it hurt her to swallow.

"Come on, dear," Professor McGonagall said. "Even the greatest journey starts with a single step."

"Oh," she mumbled faintly. How long had she just been sitting there for? "Sorry."

"It's quite alright, Katelyn. Now up you get."

She slowly peeled herself up and away from the mattress, feeling woozy as she gingerly freed herself from the sheets and swung her legs over the side of the bed. A pair of fluffy slippers appeared on the floor just below her feet with a soft 'pop'.

She looked up to see McGonagall putting her wand away, smiling somberly.

"That one's been very useful lately," she said as Katelyn put them on.

"Thank you."

"Don't spare it a thought, dear. Now, go on and get yourself cleaned up. I'll be waiting here for you."

Before she went inside with her little bundle of clothes, McGonagall gestured for her to stop.

"On second though, hold still for a moment."

McGonagall gently tapped her wand on Katelyn's head, and she felt a gentle cloud of feathers tickling their way down her body, before the sensation faded a moment later. She couldn't help but shudder.

"That'll alert me if you begin bashing your head on the basin," she said matter-of-factly. "Unless you would prefer I keep an eye on you myself, of course."

She looked up to see that McGonagall was clearly just kidding, but she couldn't decide if that made her feel better or worse.

"That's okay," she said simply. "I won't."

What she did instead was huddle on the floor the floor of the shower and cry, finally letting out the tears that had building since she woke. She doubted she could have messed things up for herself any worse. She had trapped herself in her wretched, awful life for good. Instead of a beacon of light in the distance, the hope of seeing her parents again was just an ache in her chest. Like it had been since Christmas - before then even. For as long as she'd known.

Once the tears eventually stopped coming, it didn't take long for her wash up. As she got out of the shower and dressed, she became aware that McGonagall was speaking to someone outside. She could hear the voices, even through the door.

"Yes, I'm terribly sorry, Miss Granger. Things have been … hectic, to say the very least. I'm sure you understand. Regretfully, it slipped my mind that she'll be away from the castle for the morning. You're welcome to visit her in the evening, however."

Katelyn let out a soft sigh as a brief spell of panic slowly receded. Having to face Hermione again so early in the day would have surely put her over the edge. She took as long as possible getting dressed, just to be safe.

After that, she forced herself to look in the mirror for the first time that day. She could still see the dark purple bruise tracing a thick, blotchy line across her neck, trailing up and away, back behind her ears. She wondered how long it would take to fade. Suddenly leaving the castle seemed much more intimidating.

"Everything alright dear?" McGonagall asked with a light tap on the door, causing Katelyn to nearly jump out of her skin.

"Y-yes, Professor," she stammered, trying to collect herself.

"Alright, but too much longer and I'll have to come barging in there."

"I'm sorry, j-just a minute."

"I'm only teasing you dear, it's alright."

When she finally emerged, McGonagall was waiting in a chair nearby. Katelyn clasped her hands in front of her, feeling supremely self conscious in her jeans and tshirt.

"That's a girl," McGonagall said gently. "Now, you'll want to bundle up. Diagon is still quite chilly this time of year."

Katelyn wished that she knew some way to stop blushing as the head of Gryffindor house took extra time helping her secure her scarf so that her neck was well hidden. She wished that she could stop feeling guilty that her entire wardrobe was made up of gifts. She was wishing for an awful lot of things at the moment.

"Now, I suppose you haven't taken the floo?"

"No, but I've heard of it before."

"Just this way then."

They stepped into Madam Pomfrey's office, where the matron was busy writing a letter. After a quick exchange of greetings, McGonagall ushered Katelyn towards the fireplace. There were just a few small logs burning in the hearth.

"W-wait," Katelyn murmured. "What are we doing?"

"We're using the floo, of course," said McGonagall, reaching above the mantel into a plain jar and grabbing a handful of powder. "It's perfectly safe, I assure you."

"I - I don't understand."

Katelyn's pulse was speeding up. Other students had talked about the 'Floo Network' plenty before, but no one had ever mentioned walking through flames. They'd all made it sound as easy as taking a train, but faster. She looked to Pomfrey to see she'd stopped writing.

"Afraid of fire, dear?" the Matron asked gently.

"Y-yes."

Just then, there was a loud whoosh and rush of heat hit Katelyn's backside. She whipped around to see a massive plume of green flame erupting in the fireplace. She leapt backwards with a whimper of fright, toppling over the corner of Pomfrey's desk and landing on the floor in a heap.

"Oh goodness!" McGonagall cried apologetically, rushing to help her up. "I'm sorry, Katelyn, I thought you were familiar."

"Afraid of fire indeed," murmured Pomfrey, who already had her wand out assessing for any injuries.

"I'm okay, I'm - I'm fine," Katelyn said unevenly, pushing herself to her feet and backing a bit further away from the roaring fireplace. She was only just starting to notice how terribly warm she was, still bundled in her hat and scarf indoors and frightened to death.

McGonagall stepped back over to the fireplace.

"It's alright, just look here," she said calmly. "It doesn't burn you."

She slowly put her arm in, until it disappeared behind the bright green flames. Katelyn jumped, even though, true to her words, McGonagall's arm emerged unscathed a moment later.

"It is perfectly, safe, dear," Madam Pomfrey added placatingly.

"I don't think I can. Do - do I h-have to?"

She felt horribly stupid as tears began welling in her eyes. She believed them both but she just couldn't do it. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"I - I'm sorry … I'm really sorry … "

McGonagall took a long look at Katelyn, who was quite clearly on the verge of breaking down.

"Well, we have time. Poppy, do you think Miss Potter would survive apparating all the way to London?"

"I suppose, as long as she doesn't knock her head on anything on the way out."

"Well, Katelyn, what'll it be? An early morning vomit or conquering your fear?"

"Vomit," she answered, a bit too quickly.

The two women exchanged a weary look.

"Alright then, we'll need to take a stroll down to the edge of the grounds."

"Through - through the castle?"

A brief look of recognition crossed McGonagall's face.

"Oh, don't worry. I have just the thing. Come along."

Katelyn followed her to the end of the hospital wing with baited breath. Maybe having to be forcibly stuffed through a massive wall of green flames wasn't so bad compared to facing whatever lie outside the hospital wing.

The imaginary Pansy Parkinson that sometimes haunted her thoughts already had an insult on the tip of her tongue when McGonagall's wand tapped Katelyn's head. There was a sensation similar to the charm from earlier, only it was more of a runny liquid than feather tips trickling down her body.

"There," McGonagall said, conjuring a small hand mirror. "Have a look at yourself."

She did, only to find her body was nothing but a shimmer in the air. It was like her skin and clothing had become the very fabric of the invisibility cloak. She remembered that she had left her dad's cloak in the old classroom, but quickly shook the thought from her head.

"It's very good," she said finally. "I like this."

"Good. I'll have you know that it's very much against school rules to use a disillusionment charm on school grounds, but, I think the exception is warranted in this case. A bit of rule breaking is certainly preferable to attempting to drag you kicking and screaming through a fireplace."

Once again Katelyn reminded herself that McGonagall was joking, only it was getting harder and harder to believe it, because she was indeed feeling utterly pathetic. Not even Neville sounded afraid when he'd mentioning taking the Floo.

She felt a little better walking down the hallways without fear of being harrassed, following closely behind McGonagall. A stray student or two would greet the Gryffindor head of house, completely oblivious to Katelyn's presence. She wished she could be invisible all of the time. Again she had to push thoughts about her own cloak out of her mind. She might still be able to retrieve it from the room someday.

"Ah, good morning Minerva," said professor Flitwick, emerging from the teacher's lounge as they passed by. He looked uncharacteristically serious. Sad, even. "Back already?"

"We're actually just on our way out, Fillius," McGonagall said politely. "It turns out that our student would much prefer to apparate."

He nodded sagely.

"Yes, muggleborns do often struggle with that, I find. Would that mean … " He paused to scan the room for a moment, his eyes locking onto Katelyn after a second pass. "Ah, yes. There we are. Excellent charm work, Minerva. I can just barely make out the shimmer."

"Thank you, Fillius."

He nodded. It was a bit unnerving as he met Katelyn's eyes. Even when nearly invisible, she still wound up staring at her own feet.

"Well, Miss Potter," he said, lowering his voice. "I am very glad you're still with us. I hope from the bottom of my heart that you find what you need. We all do. You're one of my very favorite students, you know."

"Th … thank you," she said shakily, glad that the tears pooling in her eyes would go unseen.

Save for the occasional quiet sniffle, Katelyn and McGonagall walked in silence for the rest of the journey, out through the front doors of the castle into the chilly January air. McGonagall explained that they were walking all the way down to the gates because they couldn't apparate inside the grounds.

Once they passed through the heavy iron gates, McGonagall removed the charm, and Katelyn reappeared. She tried not to let her disappointment show, but her efforts weren't especially successful.

"I'm sorry Miss Potter," McGonagall said, "but it would be quite dangerous to apparate with you still disillusioned. And highly illegal in Diagon Alley, I should add."

"It's okay - is … is my … ?"

She gestured vaguely at her neck.

"Yes, of course."

McGonagall took a moment to readjust her scarf for her and ensure it was snug, while Katelyn wallowed in her own embarrassment and tried to pretend it wasn't happening at all.

"Now, apparating can be a bit nauseating," McGonagall warned. "Especially the first time."

"There's no fire, right?"

"Not a lick."

"Then I think I'm ready."

"Very well. Take my hand," McGonagall said.

Katelyn gingerly took the professors hand, and was surprised by her strong grip.

"Listen closely, Miss Potter," she said slowly. "It will feel quite uncomfortable at first, but if you let go of my hand for even just a moment, you'll likely get splinched into a million pieces. Keep hold of me no matter how ill you might feel. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am." Katelyn didn't think she wanted to know what getting splinched was.

"Alright, then if you're ready - "

She nodded.

"Three … two … one."

McGonagall turned on her heel and before Katelyn could think a single thought she was being crushed, smothered, like the entire world had suddenly turned inwards on itself and was sucking her in with it. She couldn't tell how much time was passing - she vaguely remembered something about holding hands - then suddenly she was tumbling to the ground as her senses returned and the rest of the world painstakingly whirled back into place.

"How do you feel?" McGonagall asked calmly, as Katelyn begin violent heaving at her empty stomach. "Oh dear … "

She waited patiently as Katelyn continued to retch for the better part of a minute. She extended a hand to help as Katelyn shakily rose to her feet, but the gesture went unnoticed.

"All better?"

"Y...yeah, sorry," Katelyn mumbled, brushing snow from her legs and trying to keep her balance.

"It's quite alright. I admit I generally like to think of myself as having some of the more gentle side-alongs, but that doesn't quite seem to be the case today."

Katelyn doubted they had the same idea of what gentle meant, but at least both of her legs were starting to cooperate again.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Katelyn," McGonagall continued. "You haven't eaten breakfast have you? I completely put it out of my mind with all the commotion this morning."

"That's alright. I'm not hungry."

Though her stomach truly felt like it been taken out and replaced backwards, McGonagall gave her a wry look that said _she_ would be the judge of that.

"Well, regardless, we're still quite early. I admit that I had left a generous allowance for the possibility that you refused to come altogether. Why don't we stop for some tea before your appointment to pass the time?"

Tea actually did sound nice, but ...

"I er… I don't have any money with me."

"I wouldn't let you pay even if you had, dear."

"Oh. Really?"

"Of course. Albus would never let me hear the end of it if I let you go on fainting under my direct supervision."

It was only a joke. Just a joke. She took a deep breath.

"That sounds nice."

McGonagall smiled at her.

"Excellent. I know of a nice, quiet place, if think you can manage a bit of a walk."

"I think so," she said.

McGonagall reached out her left elbow, looking at Katelyn expectantly. She could only cock her head, unsure what to do. After a moment, McGonagall seemed to realize her confusion, and gently took hold of Katelyn's arm, looping it through her own. She couldn't help her body going slightly rigid, but she tried her mightiest to relax, if only just a little.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright? We can make a stop to the apothecary if need be."

"No, I'm okay. Really."

With a last calculating look from her head of house, they set off in the direction of the shop. Katelyn thought Diagon Alley looked just as beautiful in winter as it had in summer. The narrow street was much quieter now, with a light dusting of snow settled atop the awnings and signs, amongst the warm glow of magical storefront displays. It would have been a very peaceful stroll were it not for the upcoming meeting weighing on her mind so heavily.

She wondered what the mind healer would be like. Would he believe her? Would he think that she was just a silly, ungrateful little girl causing trouble? Maybe he would decide that Katelyn was simply a nutter, and they would lock her up in an asylum for her own good. She couldn't help but shudder at the thought.

"Are you warm enough?" McGonagall asked.

"Oh, no - I mean, er … "

McGonagall smiled sympathetically and cast a quick warming charm, which wasn't entirely unwelcome. She did feel a bit calmer as a gentle heat bloomed through her head to her fingertips and toes.

"Thanks, sorry … " she mumbled.

"Don't mention it, dear."

Diagon Alley was much longer that Katelyn had realized. It seemed to continue on for miles. As they walked, McGonagall would make the odd comment on some of the shops here and there. Katelyn suspected it was for her benefit, but she found that she wasn't doing nearly as good of a job at pretending to listen as she usually did. She hoped that her head of house couldn't tell.

At least she was getting used to the sensation of the professor holding her arm. It was still a bit odd, of course, but it no longer felt like she was about to get hit at any moment. She could even see herself enjoying it, given enough time.

"Here were are," McGonagall said a few minutes later.

They stopped in front of a small shop, ' _The Rose Corner'_ , which had burlap awnings and several dangling wind chimes. It looked almost muggle compared to the other flamboyant and colorful shop displays nearby.

The professor ushered Katelyn inside, and she was immediately hit with the strong, but pleasant smell of tea. The shop itself was small, and cozy, with all sorts of funny little charms and pendants strung from the ceiling. The menus behind the front counter appeared to be drawn from chalk, with little swirls of color that lazily swam about the blackboards. Every few moments the lines formed into arrows pointing at the soup of the day, which read 'broccoli cheddar surprise'.

"What would you like?" McGonagall said, pausing near the counter.

"I'm not hungry, thank you," she answered readily.

"That's alright," McGonagall said patiently. "We'll just start with the tea."

She walked her to a small room off to the side, where there was a wall full of dozens of small wooden barrels on racks, with little labels underneath, all mounted on their sides so that you could see the piles of tea leaves inside. McGonagall scratched her chin thoughtfully, before putting her face up to a barrel and sniffing deeply.

Not wanting to look foolish, Katelyn followed suit. One smelled strongly of mint, and another a bit like chocolate. After quite a few, she found a tea that was agreeable, which was apparently called 'Pu'er', though the rest of the label appeared to be written in Chinese.

"Found something you like?"

"I think so."

McGonagall handed her a little paper bag to scoop the tea leaves into, and took them up to the counter to pay.

"So, Miss Potter," she said once they'd sat down at a cozy booth in the corner. "I suppose you have quite a lot on your mind with your appointment coming up."

She nodded slowly.

"Are you feeling nervous?"

"M … maybe a little."

"That's perfectly alright. Quite normal, actually, I would think. However, I don't believe I've mentioned that the headmaster recommended this practice personally. Albus intimated to me that you might be feeling some animosity towards him … goodness knows you might even think me a foul, neglectful woman … but I have the utmost confidence that there's no one better to help you. In fact, until quite recently, the headmaster has had a remarkable penchant for making the right decision."

"Oh. Thank you."

Katelyn wasn't really sure what to make of that. She'd spent a lot of time thinking about the headmaster since yesterday. She wanted to be angrier, to resent him more … but really, none of it seemed like his fault. He never bullied her, even if he knew it was happening. He made a very good apology, at least.

She remembered Hagrid speaking so highly about him, that awful and yet wonderful night when she found out the truth about it all. How Vernon had called him a crackpot, and Hagrid had gotten so angry that he'd 'accidentally' given Dudley a pig's tail. Her heart gave a sudden shudder of guilty remorse as she remembered that she hadn't seen Hagrid since it all happened. She hoped that he wasn't angry with her.

Their tea arrived a minute later, gently floating towards them on smooth earthenware saucers alongside two big scones and a copy of the Daily Prophet. McGonagall wasted no time drinking her tea, closing her eyes as if she'd been looking forward to this all morning.

Katelyn, on the other hand, burnt her tongue nearly every time she tried tea, so she turned to staring apprehensively at the blueberry scone that had alighted in front of her instead. She knew it would make the professor happy if she at least ate a little bit. Despite fearing that she wouldn't be able to keep it down if the appointment went poorly, she forced a small bite, and it was ... fine. It didn't hurt as much to swallow as it had yesterday. The satisfied look on McGonagall's face as she took a second bite might have helped.

As they ate, the professor would read out headlines from the Prophet. A wizard in Kent was arrested for getting into a drunken brawl with a muggle over a dispute about which way to hold a fork. Another article warned of a new type of fudge that could only be chewed on the left side of the mouth, or it would taste like rotten eggs.

McGonagall seemed especially invested in the quidditch news. Her favorite team was apparently the Montrose Magpies, who'd handily defeated the Kenmare Kestrels last week. Katelyn found that she actually enjoyed this most of all, because she knew Seamus Finnegan was a fan of the Kestrels, and he was rude.

Before long, she'd finished nearly the entire scone, and the tea was delightful as well. Maybe it was just getting out of the castle, but she thought that life would be a lot better if it was always this easy. It was far less likely that strangers were going to come up and slap her on the head or try and make her tea explode.

"So, Katelyn, Albus and I have been discussing your return to class … "

The involuntary gasp of distress that escaped her lips was apparently enough of an answer for McGonagall.

"It's alright, dear. Goodness knows we aren't about to force you to return immediately after what's happened. Albus spoke with your relatives and they said they would be willing to take you back in until you're feeling well enough to return to classes."

Katelyn's world froze. Everything seemed to stop, even her heart. She thought she heard the teacup break before she noticed it falling from her hand.

"What?" she breathed. It felt like blood was draining from her head and pooling into her feet.

"Albus told me that he went to visit your aunt and uncle. They were, understandably, quite shocked by the news, and deeply upset that they could not come to visit you. We can take you to them soon, of course. But for now, we are simply asking how you feel about returning to class."

Katelyn could barely muster a single thought, let alone any words. She was silent as McGonagall deftly summoned the broken pieces of the broken teacup and neatly spelled them back together.

"Well, I would imagine the horrified silence is a no," she muttered to herself.

Before Katelyn knew it, she was crying, and she couldn't stop herself.

"Katelyn, dear," McGonagall said, stooping down and placing a hand on her shoulder. Katelyn managed to partially subdue her own flinch. "I'm sorry, I was only teasing you, child."

"I - I know - I'm s-sorry," Katelyn sobbed, hiding her hands in her face.

McGonagall sighed softly as Katelyn fought in vain to wrestle her sobs back down. Thankfully it was a quiet day in Diagon Alley, and the shop was empty but for the slightly uncomfortable young witch behind the counter.

"You know, I've lost a fair few loved ones in my time," McGonagall said, keeping her hand gently planted on Katelyn's shoulder. "But my mother taught me early on that sometimes a bit of humor can cure even the worst of ails. The older of my two brothers had, and to this day still has, the most awful habit of breaking wind at incredibly inconvenient times, you see … "

Katelyn's tears were abruptly halted by the sudden strange turn in the conversation.

"When I was about to blow out the candles on my ninth birthday, or when my father brought him up to the pulpit to read scripture in front of a sizable congregation, for example. Well, at my husband's funeral (Katelyn had to suppress a gasp), my other, younger brother Robert was about to read when Malcolm unleashed the loudest, foulest, most odorous flatulence I've ever been unfortunate enough to witness."

Katelyn couldn't help peeking out from behind her hands, to see McGonagall smiling in recollection.

"Well, needless to say, everyone in attendance erupted in hysterical laughter. I swear to you that I had a stitch in my side for a week afterwards. At the time it might have seemed worse than the most wicked jynx you could think of, but, looking back, I have some happiness and closure from what was otherwise a very heartbreaking and sorrowful day. Though I could do without recalling the smell so distinctly … "

Katelyn wiped at her eyes, in disbelief that her head of house was sharing something so private and personal, and yet so utterly odd. The thoughts of her relatives were forgotten, if only just for the moment.

"So, what I mean to say with all of this, is that I hope you understand I don't mean to be cruel with an odd joke here or there. Please don't take it personally."

"I won't," she sniffled. "I'm … sorry about your husband."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, child. He was a fair bit older than myself, and he lived a long and happy life."

"Oh."

"Now that's enough of that dreary business. Why, goodness, look at time. One might almost think you were stalling, Miss Potter. Up we go now."

With McGonagall taking up the gauntlet of making conversation once more, the walk to the Healer's office passed quickly and relatively painlessly. Though Katelyn might have been holding onto the professors arm a bit more tightly this time.

The office was tucked into a very quiet side alley. It was a very unnoteworthy building, that made no effort to stand out from the neighboring shops but for a modest sign, which read: " _Bellby Private Practice and Miscellaneous Services"_. She wasn't sure what 'miscellaneous service' would entail, but she supposed that treating suicidal children must fall under the definition.

The office looked a little bit messier on the inside. In the corner by the windows was a waiting room, with plush chairs, tall stacks of newspapers, and a very old looking wireless radio playing some soft music. In the far corner there was a brightly colored bird in a cage, with a note on the outside that read: " _Warning: Bird is very rude."_

McGonagall led her up to the receptionist, an older man with three or four quills tucked behind his ears.

"Hello, I'm here with our student for her appointment at eleven o'clock."

"Yes, yes, very good," he said, swiveling in his chair, plucking out a quill and scribbling on a long bit of parchment. "Our _anonymous_ student." He gave Katelyn a small wink over the top of his glasses. "You're just a little early. Have a seat and your healer will be out shortly."

And so they sat. For what seemed like a small eternity. Any semblance of a good mood that Katelyn might have managed to cobble together throughout the day was quickly crumbling, as the seconds ground by, one after another. Katelyn fixed her gaze on a floorboard that had begun to curl up at the end, so you could see the nails sticking out underneath.

The tension was thick, and heavy by the time the faint clicking of a door opening could be heard down the hall. Katelyn heard light footsteps approaching but found it impossible to wrench her eyes from the floorboard.

"Professor McGonagall and student?"

McGonagall rose from her chair, and Katelyn numbly followed suit. The healer was a young woman with brown hair, dressed in relaxed muggle attire, who looked surprisingly friendly.

"Hello, professor. I'm healer Burch."

"Burch?" asked the professor. "From Ravenclaw?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Ah, I thought I recognized you. Very good student, moved away in fourth year?"

"That's the one. It's good to see you again, professor."

"Likewise. And this is Katelyn."

"It's nice to meet you Katelyn."

"H-hello," she mumbled.

"There's no need to be nervous, Katelyn. Let's go and chat, shall we?"

"O-okay."

"I'll be here when you're done," McGonagall said reassuringly.

Healer Burch led Katelyn back to her office, which was small and dark, with lots of rustic decorations, candles, and big plush chairs.

Healer Burch took a seat first, gesturing for Katelyn to sit as well. The chair was very squashy, but it probably would been a lot more comfortable if she wasn't about to be interrogated.

"Are you comfortable?" the healer asked conversationally. "You can take off your winter clothes if you're too warm."

"O-oh, no that's okay … "

It was getting very warm indeed, but she didn't want her scar to be visible.

"Don't worry, it's your choice. And there's no shame if you change your mind later. Now, before we start there's just a few formalities. Do you know anything about wizarding confidentiality laws?"

" … No."

"Well, it goes like this: For quite some time now, centuries actually, it's been illegal to practice mind healing without swearing to a strict secrecy vow." Healer Burch's tone implied she wasn't particularly happy with this. "So I'm unable to tell anyone about anything you say or do during our session, unless you tell me that you're planning to hurt yourself or others."

"Oh." Katelyn didn't think that sounded like a bad thing.

"So you might think that sounds great, but the oath also means that I can't make any recommendations for treatment or get help for you if you think you're in danger. Sometimes I'm able to hint at something if it's critical, but otherwise my tongue is tied, quite literally." She made a small grimace. "Excuse the pun. Now, do you think you might understand what this means for you?"

"If … if I want help, I have to ask someone else."

"Exactly. The Ministry of Magic thinks it best that a mind healer keeps exclusively to treating their patients directly, but there's usually numerous outside factors that contribute to depression, anxiety, and other harmful behavior. So I just want to make sure that you feel like you can ask for help from your professors if you need it. I had McGonagall as a professor, and I know that she can seem harsh, but I also know that she'll do whatever she can to help you. Sound fair?"

"I think so."

"Good! Now that's over with, we can get started. I understand that you're seeing me because you attempted suicide very recently?"

It was a small shock to hear it said so plainly. Katelyn's gaze fixed itself to the floor as it often did.

"Y-yes."

"Well, I'm sorry that you felt like that was your best option. Do you still feel like you would attempt suicide again?"

Again, Katelyn was slightly stunned to be asked in such a direct way.

"I … I don't know … I don't think I would be able to get away with it now."

"But if you knew you could make another attempt, would you?"

" … I … I … " Katelyn already felt a tear brimming in her eye. "Yes."

"Well, thank you for being honest with me, Katelyn. Now, we'll come back to that later on so things aren't so overwhelming. If it's alright, I'd like to start off by just getting to know your history a little bit better."

"Okay."

"I understand you live with your relatives. What happened to your parents?"

"They're dead."

"I'm very sorry to hear that."

"You shouldn't be. Voldemort killed them, not you."

"I see. But you don't fear saying his name?"

"What's the worst he could do, kill me too? And he already tried, I guess."

"Ah. I suppose that means you would be _the_ Katelyn Potter, then. You've done a very clever job of hiding the scar with your hair. Well, how about your loved ones? The people you care about?"

"I don't care about anyone else."

"Not a single person?"

"Well … there are some people who aren't bad I guess."

"Like who?"

"Hagrid is really nice … there's a boy named Ron who never picked on me too much … "

"Why don't you tell me more about them?"

"Well … Hagrid was the one who brought me my first Hogwarts letter … "

* * *

Minerva was beyond worried. She didn't know much about mind healing. She'd never had a student attempt suicide before. Even Severus had revealed that he'd only had some of his most troubled Slytherin students come close (information he'd given only after she nearly broke down in tears in the middle of his office). He'd always been able to intervene before it was too late.

She, however, had been completely, utterly blindsided. She'd just woken in the middle of the night to find that one of her most promising first year students had nearly perished in the night. To be told by Poppy that Katelyn had tied her own noose.

The Katelyn Potter she saw today was so different, and yet so utterly alike the Katelyn that she'd known all year - it was sickening how clear it all seemed in hindsight. Katelyn wasn't a moody, pampered child … no, she was a scared little girl who'd been relentlessly bullied under her watch. A girl who had always insisted she was fine, though now the evidence made it abundantly clear that she was not.

Minerva, working under her foolish assumptions, had thought that being strict might have done some good, but she may as well have driven the final nail into the coffin herself with her attempts at discipline. Threatening punishment when she wouldn't eat, getting frustrated at her fainting spells … oh if only she knew how she could live with herself. She felt another wash of shame as she remembered that just today she'd unthinkingly teased the poor girl enough to make her cry.

She wanted to blame her own dry sense of humor, but it was just as likely that she was an insensitive bat. Dear Merlin, she could recall threatening her with expulsion if she failed to practice hard enough at quidditch … it had been meant as a bit of an exaggeration, but then the girl had taken to exhausting herself to the point that she was fainting in the hallways. How could she have been so blind?

Minerva sighed out loud, discarding the issue of Witch Weekly that she'd not succeeded in reading a single word of and resting her head on her hand. She had to do better. She couldn't fail the girl a second time.

* * *

A long last Minerva heard the door click open. A smile of relief died on her lips as she looked up to see a teary-eyed, sullen Katelyn shuffle out of the office, looking small and defeated. She had her jacket and scarf bundled up in her arms, leaving the bruise on her neck exposed.

"Oh, Katelyn, dear," she said, rising to her feet, "What happened?"

Katelyn shook her head. Minerva had to restrain her instinct to pull the little girl into an embrace, reminding herself of the warning from Poppy that Katelyn didn't like being touched without warning. She didn't miss how Katelyn quickly stepped in close by her side, however.

The mind healer, Miranda, emerged from the office just behind her, looking calm but somber.

"Hello Professor," she said, meeting Minerva's accusing glare without faltering. The healer allowed herself a small sigh before she began. "The first session was difficult for her, but she did very well. She was very candid, save for a few sore spots. And despite that, we're already making progress."

"It hardly looks like progress," Minerva said dryly, taking another look at Katelyn as she sniffled into her coat. She summoned a tissue and handed it to her.

"It's not uncommon, Professor. Often the healing process involves dredging up some of the things that we've buried to try and save ourselves further pain. It's hard to move forward with these things dragging us down. She was very brave."

"Is this true, Katelyn? She hasn't simply been tormenting you this entire time?"

Katelyn nodded slowly.

"I'm … I'll be okay," she murmured, though it was a mantra that Minerva felt she was becoming a bit too familiar with. "She didn't do anything wrong."

"I suppose I'll take your word for it then, dear."

"Now, as you may know professor, there's not much I can say … but I can tell you that we've only just scratched the surface. There's a lot to sort through. From what she's said and in my experience I believe that there … there's quite a bit, in fact." Healer Burch frowned slightly. "It's best she makes regular visits so that we can make as much progress as quickly possible. In fact - "

Burch took several short breaths, each one cutting off abruptly just as it seemed a word was about to form on her tongue, her brow creasing in a tempered display of frustration.

"Okay, nevermind. I can't seem to find a way to say it. But if you keep a close eye on her, I think everything will be alright for now."

Minerva knew full well that she might have something important to reveal about Katelyn's wellbeing, but thanks to the archaic approach the Ministry took towards mind healing, she would just have to hope for the best.

"Katelyn, I don't suppose you'd have anything that comes to mind?"

She shook her head. Well, Minerva supposed she couldn't force it out of her if she did know what Healer Burch was trying to say.

Katelyn did calm down a little by the time they'd finished scheduling her next appointment, for the same time tomorrow. She insisted that she didn't need a day off to recuperate, though Minerva thought she recognized that look in her eyes, when she was trying to seem a lot braver than she felt. Nevertheless, the both of their spirits seemed to lift just slightly as they stepped out of the office and into the chilly Diagon Alley air.

"Well, Katelyn, before we return: How is your appetite?"

"But we only just ate an hour ago, professor," she said in a small voice. "Sorry - I mean -"

"Please, you can call me Minerva while we're not in class, dear." Katelyn's eyes went a bit wide. "And it's actually been two hours. The appointment went just a wee bit long."

"Two hours?"

"Indeed. I'm actually feeling rather peckish myself. Would you mind accompanying me to a sandwich shop before we return?"

"I'm … I'm not hungry. I don't feel very good ... but I can wait while you eat."

"Why not just have a bit more tea and we can see how you feel afterwards?"

" … sure. That's fine."

Minerva extended her elbow, and felt a surprising swell of happiness that Katelyn barely hesitated for a moment before linking arms with her.

"I know of a lovely place …" she hummed, steering Katelyn off towards another of her favorite Diagon Alley haunts. Though it seemed like only moments ago she'd been filled with dread about the poor girl's prospects, maybe things were looking up for them both. Maybe it wasn't too late.

* * *

"Hello again, Katelyn. I'm sorry I didn't see you after classes yesterday like I said. Madam Pomfrey told me that you were asleep when I came by. I tried this morning too, but I guess you'd already left. Are you feeling any better?"

"Go away," came the reply, muffled by a pillow.

Hermione sighed.

"Look, I understand if you think I'm here for the wrong reasons, but there's no need to be mean. This isn't easy for me either, you know."

Katelyn was silent for a long moment, before she turned over slightly in the bed.

" … yeah, you're right. I'm sorry. I'm just … I don't think I'm up to it right now, okay?"

"Well, Madam Pomfrey said it would take some time. Maybe I can come back tomorrow?"

" … sure. That's fine."

"Okay, great. I uh … I'll see you later then."

"Right."

" … Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Hermione."


	11. Chapter 11

Katelyn woke from another nightmare, not unlike the others. She'd hung herself from the ceiling of the Great Hall while the rest of the school looked on and laughed. It was one of the better dreams she'd had recently.

She sat up slightly, swallowing thickly and trying to shake the lingering memories and feelings from her head. Mostly thanks to the potions that Pomfrey had been giving her, her throat felt a lot better. The rest of her, however, felt about the same.

Seeing the mind healer had been one of the most awful things she'd ever gone through. Katelyn was used to being treated like dirt, or worse than dirt, but being pushed to think about why - to recall all of the incidents that she'd worked so hard to forget - was like torture. The mind healer had been patient, and understanding, but that somehow made it worse. She'd almost rather be shouted at to shut up instead. She would be lying if she said she wasn't dreading today's visit.

Katelyn was relieved, however, that she was alone inside her bed's privacy curtain. She thought she could hear faint voices in Madam Pomfrey's office.

Last night it had been decided that, for the time being, Katelyn would remain in the hospital wing. The few who asked would be told that she had a bad case of Dragon Pox and was not to be disturbed as she recovered. She didn't know how many people knew the truth, or if anyone cared if they did.

Katelyn's reputation was something she couldn't afford to dwell on, however. She still had to work out an excuse for why she didn't want to leave school to stay with her relatives. Last night, McGonagall had brought up visiting them again, but Katelyn managed to avoid the subject until it was forgotten. She knew it wouldn't be long before questions would start being asked.

She'd spent every waking moment since then racking her brain for something convincing. Why she wanted to stay at Hogwarts. Why she didn't want to see her 'family', let alone leave school to stay with them. Now that the reality of it was dawning, she was quite sure that Hogwarts was at least slightly better than going back. The trick was to work out a way to stay without tipping anyone off.

Just then, she heard the door to Madam Pomfrey's office open. The matron came through her curtains just a moment later.

"Ah, good, you're awake Miss Potter. How are the sores and rashes this morning?"

Katelyn couldn't tell if the matron was joking or if someone was currently eavesdropping. She played along just in case.

"A little better," she said vaguely, her voice still a bit raspy from a fitful night of sleep.

"Very good. The headmaster will be along in just a moment. Now, here's your potion."

Her stomach was already twisting in anxiety as she dutifully drank the contents of the phial. She was quite sure her time was nearly up. For all she knew, the Dursleys wouldn't let her return if she so much as set foot in their household to visit. Were it not for Hagrid, she'd never have made it to Hogwarts in the first place. Her aunt and uncle had probably already spent ages carefully preparing their arguments as to why she should be removed from school and never return.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright, dear?"

"I do feel a little off … " she admitted carefully.

"I believe you could survive another calming draught before we'd be risking any particularly nasty side effects."

"Oh … could I … maybe keep it for later instead?"

"Well, I don't see why not. There's not much trouble you can get up to with a calming draught."

Pomfrey set the phial on her bedside table.

"As always, just call if you need anything."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

"Of course, dear."

As predicted, Dumbledore arrived outside the curtain just a minute later.

"May I come in, Katelyn?" he asked softly.

"Yes, sir."

He slowly stepped inside, smiling at her in a melancholy sort of way that was already making her feel guilty and terrible.

"How are you today, my dear?" he said, taking up the usual chair at her bedside.

"I'm okay."

"And your trip to Diagon Alley with Minerva yesterday ended agreeably?"

Katelyn had to consider her answer. It had been one of the best and worst days of her life all at once.

"That was okay too, I guess."

Dumbledore inclined his head in a way that suggested she elaborate.

"Professor McGonagall was really nice, but I didn't like seeing the mind healer."

"How so?"

"It was … awful. She asked so many questions … I don't know … I … I'm afraid to go back."

"Simply admitting that you are afraid is, in fact, a very brave thing to do, Katelyn."

"Oh."

"And I think, in time, it will only get easier. However, Minerva mentioned that it's not unwise to take a day off, to rest and recuperate. It's not too late to reschedule if you would prefer."

Katelyn sighed.

"No, I can do it."

Dumbledore seemed to lighten up slightly.

"Very good," he said. "Now, I do have another subject to broach, if you don't mind an old mans badgering."

There was the all-too-familiar knot of dread, returning with full force. Not taking the calming draught had been the wrong decision.

"… s-sure."

"Minerva also mentioned that we've yet to arrange for you to see your relatives. They were quite upset to hear the unfortunate news, but also very understanding. Yet I get the niggling doubt that you would rather postpone such a visit."

Katelyn was flooded with emotions at his words. Relief, panic, suspicion — maybe it was naive to hope, but it almost sounded like Dumbledore wasn't going to make her do it. Could she possibly be so lucky?

"I - I -" She gulped painfully, grappling desperately for the right words. "I don't want them to - to see me … n-not like this," she lied, unable to meet the headmaster's eyes as a tear trickled woefully down her cheek, perching on the edge of her trembling jaw before she had the sense to wipe it away.

She heard the headmaster sigh softly.

"In other circumstances, I might have insisted … but I trust you to make the decision that is right for you. I hope that, if and when the time comes, you will inform me when you feel ready to see them."

She nodded, torn between anguish and utter, joyous relief. She couldn't believe it had been so simple. So easy. She was finding it very hard to feel any anger towards the headmaster at the moment, as the most immediate thundercloud of despair amongst a stormy sky drifted away in an instant.

"I will," she said.

"I assume it is, at the least, agreeable to you if I send them letters with updates on your recovery from time to time."

"S-sure."

"Unless you would prefer to write them yourself, of course."

Katelyn's jaw went slightly slack as she was confronted by something she'd never once considered. What on earth would she - could she ever say to them? She did very little of the talking at the Dursley household.

"No need to worry, my dear," Albus said soothingly, interrupting her thoughts before she could work herself into another panic. "Maybe this will come in time as well. Until then, however, we are perfectly happy to have you with us at Hogwarts while you recover."

"Thank you," she murmured, wiping at her eyes once more.

"Do not think of it, dear child. It is the very least I can do."

She finally risked glancing at the headmaster to see his smile had returned.

"Now, the last big decision of the day for you concerns yours truly." He made a small show of theatrically gesturing to himself with a slight bow. "Would you mind terribly if I were the one to accompany you to Diagon Alley today? The hope is to avoid raising concern should Minerva be taking a great deal of time away from her class, and, I personally would be quite glad for the chance to spend a day in your company."

She wondered for a moment if he truly meant it, but his words brought a more pressing concern to mind.

"Yes, that's alright. Does anyone else know what happened? Besides Hermione?"

"Ah. You'll be quite pleased to know that our little ruse about dragon pox has been remarkably successful. Normally secrets are quite difficult to keep in the castle, but to my knowledge, not a soul knows the truth, excepting the staff, your relatives, and your friend Miss Granger, naturally."

Katelyn couldn't help but sigh in relief. Past experience told her that it was all too good to be true. Surely it wouldn't last. But she would bask in the joy of knowing that her secret was safe, and that she was safe from her relatives, even if only for a little while. Though her sky was still cloudy, it no longer looked as if it was about to pour at any moment.

"Now, we have quite a day ahead of us, so I believe it's best you get ready."

"Yes sir," she said, spotting another pile of clothes on her bedside table and sitting up to collect them.

"Please, Katelyn, do call me Albus."

"O-oh," she breathed, blushing slightly. First McGonagall, and now the headmaster too. "Yes, Albus."

It sounded a bit funny to her own ears, but the way the headmaster smiled afterward made it feel a lot more natural.

After a much quicker shower than yesterdays (and with far fewer tears), Katelyn was relieved to see that the scar on her neck was continuing to fade, albeit slowly. Sometimes it felt like it would never go away, and there would forever be a deep purple mark as a reminder of the choice she'd made. So she was relieved to see that the shade had lightened just slightly. Pomfrey said that with the potion it could heal fully in a single week, rather than two. That meant only a few days left, she hoped.

Dumbledore was sitting in a plush chair, reading a small, muggle-looking paperback book when she emerged from the bathroom. He smiled at her, vanishing the book and chair with a small flick of his wand as he stood.

"Now, I understand that you aren't overly fond of the floo network," he said once she had donned her jacket and secured her scarf.

Katelyn shook her head.

"No sir - er, Albus."

He smiled his twinkliest smile, before reaching into his robes.

"Then I believe this may come of use, as we venture to the edge of the grounds."

He withdrew his hand, and in his grasp was a length of shimmery, translucent fabric. Katelyn recognized her cloak - her fathers cloak - instantly.

"Are you sure?" she breathed in spite of herself.

"I acknowledge that there some … slight risks in returning it to you. But I choose to trust you with it, much like I choose to trust that you will come to me if you ever feel that you might make me regret returning it to you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Albus. I do. Thank you."

He smiled his incredibly bright smile once more, and gently pressed the cloak into her hands. Katelyn wasted no time putting it on, as tears were already brimming in her eyes.

"Let us be off then," he said, pushing open the door to the wing as Katelyn faded from view underneath the light folds of silky fabric. "I have planned a wonderful breakfast for us."

Once outside the castle gates, Katelyn carefully folded up the cloak and stored it in a pocket inside of her jacket.

"Now, I may fancy myself quite a hand at side-along apparition, but I presume Minerva briefed you on the potential dangers?"

"Yes," she said, though she still didn't know - or want to know - what splinching was. The awful feeling of nausea afterward was bad enough in itself.

"Then let us be off."

She took his hand, and was promptly sucked through a tube the width of her finger, and spat back out the other end after a moment that lasted far, far too long.

The headmaster was kind enough to pretend that he didn't notice her drop to the ground and immediately begin trying to evacuate her empty stomach onto the pavement. Though it was better than it had been with McGonagall, she still felt like her guts had been crushed by a giant fist.

Once she regained her ability to breathe, she looked up to see that they were in a shady back alley, where the sun barely reached so early in the day. After heaving once or twice more she was able to wobble to her feet all on her own.

"All ready, my dear?" Dumbledore said, extending a hand.

"Yes, Albus."

She extended her own hand in turn, and she couldn't help but feel a bit proud that she didn't flinch as the headmaster took hold of it.

"Ah, before we begin -"

Dumbledore drew his wand and waved it up and down the length of his body. His turquoise, silken robes sudden transformed into a smartly-cut suit in the very same boisterous color.

"Much better," he said, though to Katelyn he only looked marginally less out of place. "Off we go."

They walked the streets of London together for some time. Katelyn had never been, save for when she'd ventured to Diagon with Hagrid in the summer. It was nice to have a proper look around, to see all of the shops and people and cars and buses, that all looked so busy and yet still just a little bit sleepy. The best part was that, despite the headmaster's suit, they drew a lot less attention than she had when traveling with Hagrid. No one cared to look at them, and that was ideal.

Throughout the duration of their walk, there was primarily one question on Katelyn's mind. What had the headmaster meant when he said he had plans for breakfast? This was finally answered when Dumbledore suddenly stopped and made an extravagant wave across the street towards what appeared to be a retro American themed diner. There was a lot of chrome, and a big neon sign that read, "Fresh Eddie's - American Style Breakfast, BBQ, and Diner"

"Here we are at last," he said happily. "A delightfully muggle sort of place, don't you think?"

Katelyn looked to the headmaster, not sure if he was having her on, and he simply smiled and inclined his head slightly, as if to say, 'You ought not to be surprised, knowing me.' And she supposed that, in a strange way, it was rather fitting.

After carefully checking the arrangement of her scarf one last time, she let Dumbledore lead her across the street and into the diner, through a big set of push doors. The inside was very bright, with more neon signs, checkered tile, and a row of chrome-lined stools at a big bar at the very front. One wall was covered with old license plates from different places in America, while another had framed photos of important American politicians and actors. There was a guitar that was apparently signed by Elvis strung from the ceiling. But most noticeable was the smell. It was incredible, like coffee and grease and salt.

They sat down at the far end of the diner, in a booth by the window. Albus took up a menu and began paging through it with interest, so she followed his lead.

Katelyn had never seen a more American selection. It had all day breakfast, and all kinds of foods she'd never seen before: Grits, hash browns, chicken and waffles (who on earth had thought of putting those together?), as well as things she knew to be American staple foods, like cheeseburgers, "French fries", fried chicken, and more. It was a little overwhelming, not unlike her very first Hogwarts feast, excepting that she could already smell the food. And it was just a little bit wonderful.

Before she could so much as begin to wrap her head around it all, they were approached by a thin woman with her hair in a bun, who was chewing on a pen.

Weirdly, she didn't seem to take much notice of Dumbledore's flashy outfit as she looked them over. Katelyn wondered if he was a regular here, or if she was just exceptionally polite.

"Mornin' dears," she said, taking out a pad of paper from her apron. She spoke with a strong American accent, like she was straight out of a film. "Somethin' to drink, coffee?".

"If you'd be so kind," Dumbledore said gracefully, "Decaf would be lovely."

"And you, sweetie?"

"May I have orange juice, please?" Katelyn squeaked, feeling incredibly self-conscious.

The waitress smiled over top her pad of paper.

"Aren't you polite!" she said in her accent. "Of course, honey."

Katelyn blushed, staring down at the table.

"I'll be back with those in a sec!"

She stuck the pen back in her mouth and strode off to chat with a man at the counter.

"Mm … what looks appealing to you, Katelyn? My treat, of course. I'm quite fond of the chili fries myself, but - ah, perhaps a bit early for such things. "

Katelyn might have said 'I'm not hungry' like she always did, but in truth, it was all so absurd that she had entirely forgotten her lack of appetite.

"I can't decide … there's so much," she said, as her eyes darted back and forth between a pulled pork sandwich and 'pizza dog'. The closest patron was slowly working away at a tower of waffles covered in bacon, egg, and cheese, and she couldn't decide if it seemed delicious or disgusting.

"Perhaps you might allow me to order for you?" Dumbledore said, folding up his menu and placing it down on the table. "I'll have you know that I possess exceptionally good taste."

In another life, Katelyn might have laughed, as the headmaster sat there in his flashy turquoise suit, in a booth in the corner of an American 50's themed diner.

"Okay, sure," she said, though she felt she ought to be more concerned about the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

A minute later the waitress returned with their drinks.

"Ready to order?" she said around her pen, which she continued to chew as she deposited the orange juice and coffee in front of them.

"I will have the chef salad please," Dumbledore said primly. "With the horseradish blue cheese dressing, if I may."

She thought she might have seen the waitress smirk, if only just for a moment.

"And for you, sweetie?"

She looked to Albus, who was still smiling brightly.

"Ah, yes, she would like … "

Katelyn could only look on in horror as the headmaster proceeded to order enough food to feed a family of six, complete with a pair of deluxe milkshakes and the biggest basket of chili fries. By the end, the waitress seemed to be fighting hard to restrain her laughter.

"You must have quite the appetite, honey," the waitress said somewhat breathlessly.

"It is often said," Dumbledore agreed with an exaggerated wink.

Though it certainly was not said often at all, Katelyn was still blushing until long after the waitress left. She watched the headmaster pour creamer into his coffee until it was nearly overflowing, and wondered if this was all some strange fever dream.

"So, Katelyn … do tell," Dumbledore said, carrying on as if he hadn't just ordered half of the menu for her. "What do you think about ten pin bowling?"

" … Bowling?"

He nodded.

"I've never been."

"Ah, well you simply must try it. It's a delightful sport … "

So Katelyn sipped her orange juice, and let herself be regaled with tales of Albus's bowling career (which she couldn't be sure he wasn't making up) until their food arrived - all ten plates of it, brought out by two additional servers. There was so much that they had to pull another table up alongside their booth.

"Alright, I expect clean plates all around, young lady," said the waitress once the last plate of waffles had been safely deposited onto the second table.

Katelyn blanched, once more looking to Albus for help.

"I'm just teasin', sweetie. But you'd better come back soon and try the rest. You two enjoy!"

Dumbledore chuckled good-naturedly and began tucking into his salad. Katelyn awkwardly settled into the plate in front of her (pancakes with banana slices and fruit on top), feeling very much like she ought to be scolded for something. The pancakes were much fluffier than anything she'd ever seen, and they were very tasty.

Dumbledore gently interrupted her after she'd only taken a few bites.

"Ah, surely you'd like to sample the other offerings as well," he chirped from behind his big bowl of salad. "Here, perhaps these. I find them simply delightful. Mind you, most prefer not to eat the tails."

He plucked up another plate, of what appeared to be fried shrimp (which she certainly didn't remember hearing him order) and set it in front of her. Though she'd never had seafood before, she took a careful bite and, to her own surprise, enjoyed it immensely. Dumbledore recommended another plate, the infamous chicken and waffles a moment later (they were also good, if not somewhat confusing). Before long, the headmaster abandoned his salad, and their meal became a mess of plates being passed back and forth as they sampled from their numerous orders.

With his encouragement, Katelyn managed to take at least a small bite or two of everything, and by the end, she felt more full than she'd remembered feeling in a long, long time. Come to think, she could hardly remember the last time she'd enjoyed eating in the first place, and that was something in and of itself.

Once they were finally finished, and had filled two big takeaway boxes with leftovers, Dumbledore paid in cash, and left a very big tip for the waitress. Back outside, Dumbledore cast a very sly charm to shrink the food boxes down to fit them into his pockets.

Katelyn only realized that she'd forgotten to be nervous about the appointment until they left the restaurant and began winding their way through the streets of London, back towards Diagon Alley. Perhaps the headmaster really was as much a genius as everyone had always said. Distracting her had been very smart. It was harder to feel the overwhelming knot of dread in her stomach when there was already so much food there.

She hoped she wouldn't vomit in front of healer Burch. She already embarrassed herself enough.

* * *

"Now, the next thing I'd like to talk about: I understand that at Hogwarts, your suicide attempt is being kept secret. Are you worried about how the students would react if they find out?"

" … yes."

"And why is that? Do you think your fellow students wouldn't be understanding? They wouldn't be sympathetic?"

"No. They would probably laugh."

"Because they've already bullied you?"

"Because everyone hates me."

"Are you sure you can't name a single person who doesn't hate you? Just one?"

"Well, maybe Hermione, and Ron. And Hagrid."

"Do you think there's anyone else? Hate is a very strong emotion to feel towards someone."

"Some of my professors, I guess. But they don't always seem to like me. Some of them do hate me."

"Do you hate yourself, Katelyn?"

"W … what?"

"How do you feel about yourself, Katelyn? Do you like yourself?"

"No."

"And why is that?"

"Because I'm stupid, and ugly, and freaky. I always make everything worse and - I can never do anything right - and no one should have to be burdened with me! I'm a waste of space and I'm ungrateful, and they could live normal lives if I wasn't always making things go wrong! I JUST KEEP RUINING EVERYTHING BY BEING SO UNNATURAL AND WEIRD - "

"Katelyn, you're shouting."

"AND I - wh … what?"

"You were just shouting. Take a few deep breaths, Katelyn. Try to relax."

"R … what?"

"Breathe in, Katelyn. Keep going, keep going. There, good. Now breathe out, nice and slow. Yes, just like that."

"B - breathe … I … I don't … I can't … "

"It's okay, Katelyn. Keep breathing ... that's it. It's okay to cry. Just keep breathing. There you go …"

...

"Do you feel any better?"

"I'm sorry … I didn't mean to …"

"It's okay. I can tell you weren't shouting at me."

" … sorry … "

"It's really okay, it's natural to get upset sometimes, when bad memories come up. Now, I've noticed you don't seem to talk about your relatives very often. They're muggles, yes?"

" … yes."

"What are they like?"

"I … I don't want to talk about that. They're fine."

"Here, have another tissue. There you go. Are you worried that you'll get in trouble? Or do not prefer to think about them at all?"

" … both …"

* * *

When Katelyn emerged from the office, she was shaking, hugging her arms to herself. Her eyes looked vacant. Albus reached out a hand to comfort her and she jerked away.

"It was a very tough day for her, professor," Healer Burch said sadly, stepping out of her office. "Today we began hitting on some … very significant causes of some issues."

She shook her head, trying to find the right words.

"I hope she'll be able to share with you what she very bravely shared with me … but she may need some time. It was hard on her."

"And I suppose you wouldn't be able to share this with me yourself?"

"No … but if - "

The words instantly died on her tongue, and she looked visibly agitated.

"From what I understand," she continued more slowly, "it's not an immediate issue. We have time."

"Katelyn?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"I w-want to go," she mumbled into her sleeves, "I want to leave."

"We'll put her down for the same time tomorrow just in case, but it's perfectly alright if she'd like to cancel and take a few days off. I'll make sure the fee is waived."

"That's very kind," Dumbledore said.

Healer Burch got down on her knee and spoke directly to Katelyn in a soft, reassuring tone.

"Katelyn, I know it's hard, but think about what I said, okay? Even if it takes you some time, just try. You can do it."

Katelyn kept her face buried, as if she was trying to hide from her words altogether.

"I'll be here whenever you feel you're ready for your next session. You should be proud of yourself. You did very well."

" … thanks … " came a faint, timid murmur from somewhere behind Katelyn's scarf.

* * *

Hermione had never felt more uncertain. There was precious little information available about consoling a suicidal friend. Lately, she'd been having to remind herself that she was only twelve years old. She shouldn't have to know such things in the first place. So it was okay if she didn't handle everything perfectly. Only, it was much easier to say it than to believe it.

But no matter. Here she was, and all she could do was try her best. She couldn't remember feeling this nervous in a long time. Even when she'd gone to visit her grandfather after her grandmother passed, at least her parents had been with her. She wished Ron could have come with.

She shook her head, trying to clear her head as she took the last few steps and opened the door to the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey came shortly to investigate the noise, and gave Hermione a quick smile of approval.

"Hello Miss Granger," she said in a slightly hushed tone, "Here to visit Miss Potter?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"It's a very good thing you're doing, you know. She needs friends now more than ever."

Madam Pomfrey fixed her with a look for a moment.

"Are you nervous, dear?"

"Yes … quite a bit. I don't know what to say. What to do."

The matron nodded sympathetically.

"It's certainly not an easy thing. Maybe just tell her a little about your day. Ask a few questions, perhaps, but don't pry. Just try to be there for her if she'll let you and leave if she asks."

"Okay. I'll try."

Pomfrey steered Hermione towards the bed. The privacy curtains around the bed seemed to grow taller and taller the closer they got, until they were towering over her. She'd been inside before, but every time it felt as if she was about to break into a sacred, dangerous place.

"You'll be alright, dear," the matron said, sensing her anxiety.

Hermione took one last, deep breath.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

"Anytime dear. Good luck."

Hermione stepped through the curtain. Inside she was greeted once more with Katelyn's backside, nestled deep into the blankets, with little more visible than a swath of black hair, splayed out over top of the pillows. She couldn't help but notice an empty bottle of calming draught still on the bedside table. This did little to ease her worries, because she knew Katelyn despised drinking the stuff, even at times when she quite clearly needed it.

"Hello Katelyn," she said, not as calmly as she would have liked. "How are you?

"Fine."

Katelyn sounded anything but. For the last few days, Hermione had spent a lot of time reflecting on the past. Wondering how often Katelyn might have said that she was 'fine' without meaning it. How many times Hermione had let the matter go when she should have pressed further.

"Ron wanted to come too, you know," she ended up offering into the silence.

"Oh."

"He's in detention for punching Malfoy."

"He … he punched him?"

At this, Katelyn finally turned over. Her eyes were red and swollen. She looked as miserable as she ever had.

"He was spreading rumors in class about you," Hermione explained. "Professor Snape actually took points from him for it, if you'd believe that. But then Ron went over and punched him anyway, because he's an idiot."

Katelyn made a little huff of laughter, which might have surprised them both.

"What?" asked Hermione.

"He is a bit of an idiot."

"A bit? He punched Malfoy in plain view of a teacher!"

"Okay, maybe more than a bit."

"Well, he's good for an icebreaker if nothing else. So, how was your day?"

Katelyn's eyes shifted back and forth.

"It wasn't very good."

"Oh, I'm sorry … Do you want to tell me about it?"

"They're making me see a 'mind healer' … which is just a therapist, I guess."

"Did it not go well?"

"I have to talk about myself. I really hate it, but they let me stop early this time because I kept crying. So that was nice at least."

"I'm so sorry, Katelyn."

"If it makes you feel any better, it wasn't too much to do with you."

"Hm?"

"I didn't do it because of you. McGonagall told me you were upset because you thought it was your fault.

"Oh, yes … well, I suppose deep down I knew I couldn't be the only thing. Your note said you wanted to be with your parents."

"Exactly."

"I think that they would have wanted you to live a long, happy life, wouldn't they?"

"I never had that chance."

"But you do have it, Katelyn. Right now, here. You have people who care about you. The opportunity to make a life for yourself, to learn all sorts of incredible things and go out into the world and be something. It won't be easy, and not everyone will be good to you … but you can try. I think that's what they would want for you."

"Sheesh," Katelyn said, sitting up a little and scratching her head. "Did you practice that beforehand?"

Hermione blushed, and couldn't help shuffling her feet nervously.

"I've just read a lot," she said with a modest shrug. "Books I read tend to make me think in their voices."

"How do you mean?"

"Oh. Well," Hermione began, realizing that Katelyn was already acting a differently, and trying not to feel overly excited about it, "every book, every author… they have distinct voices, you see. The way they express things, it's like an accent or a unique style. And once I've read so much of a certain voice, it takes hold in my brain a little, and then I start thinking and talking in that voice. I've only realized that I do it quite recently."

"Interesting," Katelyn said simply. Only she did actually sound it, at least a little. It wasn't often she was curious about anything, even schoolwork.

"Well, maybe not that interesting," Hermione said, attempting a little humor. "It's a bit like telling someone about an odd dream. Never quite as interesting to the other person, is it?"

"I don't know. They hated when I talked about my dreams."

"They?"

Katelyn blanched, like she'd let something slip.

"My aunt and uncle, sorry," she said quickly. "Nevermind."

Hermione had a sudden moment of clarity, and couldn't help a gasp escaping her lips. She didn't want to think it, but it just made too much sense. Like her eyes had finally been opened.

Katelyn's aunt and uncle.

She almost never talked about them, and when she did, it had never been anything good. She'd never had Christmas presents. She never mentioned travel or holidays, or her birthday, or anything to do with her family. It was a subject that was always just shied around.

"Katelyn … did … did you not get on well with them?" Hermione asked delicately, her voice pitching slightly upwards.

Katelyn was very, very still. She appeared to think on the matter for a long, tense moment.

"Do you promise not to tell anyone?"

"Of course."

"Could you say it? That you promise you'll never say anything?"

"Yes. I promise I won't say a word unless you want me to."

Katelyn took a long, shaky breath.

"They hate me. They say I'm a burden, and a freak, and that it's not fair that I was dumped on their doorstep … they told me that my mom and dad were drunks who died in a car crash … that they never loved me. And I believed them, because I had no one else. That's what I had to talk about today."

Hermione could see tears welling in Katelyn's eyes as she sunk into herself. She hardly noticed her own eyes growing misty.

"Katelyn - " she said, her voice cracking slightly, "Oh my God ... I had no idea ... I'm so, so sorry."

She felt like an absolute fool that it had never occurred to her before. It must have been so much worse than just bullying at school. Of course it was.

"Well, I never told you. How would you have known?"

In the back of her mind, a voice told her that there had been plenty of signs. That she must have known, in some way.

"Katelyn … did they ever … did they ever do anything worse than saying such awful things to you?"

She felt her chest tightening horribly as Katelyn's eyes went slightly wide.

"You don't have to say anything, but I did promise I wouldn't tell. Maybe if you just start with something small?"

After a long moment, Katelyn muttered something so utterly quiet and frail that it was hard to tell she had even made any noise at all.

"I couldn't hear you, Katelyn. Just a little louder?"

"I slept in the cupboard under the stairs," she mumbled dejectedly.

"You - wait, what? You slept in a … in a cupboard?"

Katelyn grimaced as a tear trickled down her cheek. She didn't reach to wipe it away.

"I don't like this at all," she said faintly.

"Katelyn, was that true? They did that to you?"

Her frown deepened.

"Yeah. I tried starting off with something easy and now I just want to puke."

"Okay, you don't have to say anything else about them. I suppose it probably takes time."

"Maybe. I guess it's not any worse than with the healer, though."

"Well, thank you for telling me about it. It means a lot for you to share something like that with me."

Hermione felt an overwhelming urge to keep prying. She didn't think she'd be able to sleep tonight with so many dreadful questions on her mind, but she couldn't risk rushing things. Katelyn already looked so upset.

"Well, it's not as if I couldn't seem any more pathetic …" she muttered.

"That doesn't make you pathetic, Katelyn. If anything, it's … inspiring that you're still so normal, if that's how you were treated."

"Normal people don't try to kill themselves."

Hermione cleared her throat nervously.

"Well … it's not a … good … thing that you did, but it doesn't make you a bad person. Or pathetic. None of those things your aunt and uncle said to you were true."

"That's what the healer said."

"I hope you believe them."

Katelyn shrugged.

"That reminds me," Hermione continued, "do you … still think I'm only pretending to be your friend? Because you think I feel like I have to?"

"Oh. We've talked about that too. She said that it's natural for someone … someone like me … to find it difficult to understand, but that I should give you a chance. That I should try to trust, and see how it goes. Something about making my own happiness."

"Is that why you told me about the cupboard?"

"Sort of … Can I tell you something else?"

"Of course. Anything."

"I'm … I'm really scared."

"About what?"

She made a vague gesture back and forth between the two of them.

" … this. I … I don't know what I'm doing, and it's really scary."

"I think you're doing fine. You know … I didn't have any friends before Hogwarts either. I was just … winging it, and I guess I got lucky that Lavender and Parvati liked me. You saw how quickly they turned on me, though they're a bit better now. Anyways, I'll never know what it's like to be in your place, but I'll be with you while we figure it out, okay?"

"Okay."

"Katelyn, can I ask one last thing?"

"I guess so."

"Do you not like when people touch you?"

She looked slightly surprised to be asked, and for a moment Hermione was worried she'd crossed a line.

"Most of the time I don't … but sometimes it's okay."

"Would it be alright if I hugged you?"

She looked taken aback by the suggestion, and had to think for a moment.

"Oh … I … sure, okay."

So Hermione leaned over, and carefully put her arms around her, and squeezed lightly. After a moment, Katelyn did the same.

"There, is that alright?"

" … yeah," Katelyn replied, sounding very small. Hermione held her a bit tighter.

After a few very long seconds, they parted.

"Do you feel okay?"

Katelyn frowned for a moment, clearly choosing her words.

"It was nice," she settled on.

"You can be honest, Katelyn."

"It felt weird at first, but I think I liked it."

"I'm glad," Hermione said, feeling emboldened, "because I rather like giving hugs. And I think you deserve plenty."

Katelyn smiled just slightly, her cheeks still very red.

"So do you …" she began, only to trail off nervously.

"Hmm?"

"Nevermind …"

"Are you sure? Ask whatever's on your mind."

Katelyn sighed deeply, eyes flitting about as though she was carefully choosing her words.

"You really want to be friends? It doesn't seem fair to you. All this … stuff." She gestured vaguely at herself, and around the room. "You really don't have to."

"I would be lying if I said I didn't feel like I owed you my life at first. But it hardly took a day before I actually saw the real you, Katelyn. Would you please look at me?"

It seemed to take a great effort, but then Hermione was met with those piercing green eyes.

"You're intelligent and funny, talented and sweet … but most of all, you're so incredibly kind. You have a good heart, Katelyn, and sure, I want to make up for how mean I was, but I really do want to get to know you. Okay?"

Katelyn looked away, cheeks flushing bright red.

"I … yeah, okay. Yes."

"You believe me?"

She wiped at her eye, before meeting Hermione's eyes for another fleeting moment.

"I think I do."

Hermione couldn't help herself, and she pulled Katelyn into another hug. There was a brief flinch, but both girls dutifully ignored it, and Katelyn returned the embrace after a moment.

"I won't let you down, Katelyn."

" … thanks."

They parted once more.

"Oh, and I need to ask. Do any of the teachers know about the cupboard? About your aunt and uncle?"

"No. The healer said I should tell them, but she was sworn to secrecy, so I'd have to do it myself."

"Will you? I think it's really important that you do."

She blanched, and shifted nervously.

"I - … someday. I don't think I'm ready yet."

"Would you like me to tell them?"

"No, please -"

"It's alright, I won't unless you say. I did promise. But I think the sooner the better."

"Yeah, you're probably right. Hey … does Ron know what really happened?"

"Yes, Professor McGonagall told him, sorry. He could tell I was really upset, but I wouldn't say anything about it, so he went to her. She thought it was best he heard it from her first. There have been some rumors going around since you've been out of class. It's why he got so mad at Draco."

"Okay, that's … that's fine. He'd find out eventually I guess. Do you er … do you want to get going for the night? You've been here for a long time."

"Yes, I suppose I should get to bed. Will you be alright?"

"Yeah. I think so. Madam Pomfrey makes very good tea, you know."

Hermione couldn't help but make a little chirp of laughter. Though there was a deep chasm of dread in the back of her mind, wondering what Katelyn hadn't told her, yet, seeing Katelyn smile the tiniest of smiles at the thought of Madam Pomfrey making tea gave her hope. It might not be too late for her.


	12. Chapter 12

Katelyn's morning began much like the last few days. Like always, there had been nightmares. Lots of them. She knew she would never stop having them. She woke, tangled in her cold, damp bed sheets, in the morning stillness of the hospital wing, forcing herself to remember that she was okay.

But then came something almost alarmingly foreign. There were thoughts in her head that didn't make her want to cry. Memories that didn't remind her why she wanted to sleep forever.

Last night, she'd talked with Hermione, and it had been … good. She'd taken a big risk, and let some tiny little secrets slip out, yet no one had so much as scolded her. She'd experienced her first _hug_. That night she'd felt that, for a few fleeting moments, everything would be okay.

And so it also felt just a little bit like today could be okay too. Well, she'd have to see healer Burch again, but she'd already told her about most of the things that she didn't think she would ever tell _anyone_. Things that she decided long ago not to tell her parents when she was reunited with them in death.

So it might be okay, at least until she had to go back to class, or if they decided to send her away to the Dursleys. But that was later. So everything was fine, for now.

Dumbledore apparated her to London again that day. They didn't return to the same strange American restaurant but instead had breakfast at a little cafe. Dumbledore only got tea and scones for them. It seemed like they both knew that she couldn't be astonished into eating a big breakfast twice. But that was okay, because the dreadful nervousness of having to see the mind healer was a little less dreadful this time.

* * *

"So, Katelyn, how do you feel today?"

"I feel okay."

"I thought you might say that. But I can't help noticing that you seem to be in a better mood today. Is there any particular reason?"

"Oh … well … Hermione came to see me yesterday. She said Ron punched Draco Malfoy for me and got detention … and I had my first hug."

"So you feel happy that Ron hit another boy?"

"Er - well … he shouldn't have done it … but it seems nice that he would - do that … for me. He is a bit daft sometimes. Is that bad that I'm not upset with him? Fighting is wrong, I know … "

"Relax, Katelyn, it's alright. Do you know what they were fighting about?"

"Hermione said he was spreading rumours about me. They're telling everyone at school that I'm sick, but he's probably still come up with lots of mean things to say."

"Are you worried about what the other students think?"

"Well … a little bit. Not about me being sick. But If they find out … I … I don't want to think about if they knew."

"That's very reasonable. Not everyone is understanding about mental health issues, especially in the wizarding world. They can be very old-fashioned. Would you say that you're still afraid of returning to class?"

" … yes. M-maybe not as much as before but … yes, I'm still really scared."

"That's okay. Even a little progress is still worth recognizing. So, you also said that you talked with Hermione yesterday?"

"Yeah, she was really good about everything. She said a lot of really nice things."

"And that made you feel good too?"

"It really did."

"You've told me before that she used to bully you. Do you still worry about that sometimes?"

"No, not really. She stopped being mean after Halloween, and she's been nice to me since then. I thought she was just doing it because she felt like she owed me, but now it's almost like we're … really friends. I still don't know if I was just being paranoid before … but now it feels like she really wants to be around me. Do you think she could still be pretending? Because she thinks she has to?"

"From what you told me, I don't think Hermione is pretending. She's done a lot of things that a very good friend would. But in the end, you'll have to decide for yourself. I would suggest bringing it up with her again if you start to worry. It's rarely a bad idea to be open about your feelings."

"Okay. I will."

"And you said that you had your first hug?"

"With Hermione."

"You know Katelyn, I think this is the first time I've seen you smile since you've come to see me. You enjoyed it?"

"It was a little scary at first … but it was really nice."

"I'm so happy to hear that, Katelyn. Considering your history with physical abuse, it's very important to embrace a positive relationship with appropriate touch and affection."

"Oh, yeah. I guess."

"And you're familiar with what kinds of touch aren't appropriate?"

" … yes. They told us about it in school."

"Is something wrong?"

"No."

"You have that look, Katelyn. Remember, I'm not here to judge you. You can tell me anything you like, and we can work through it together."

"It's really nothing. Honest."

"Alright, we'll move on for now. Would you be willing to talk with me about your relatives again today?"

"... I guess. Why?"

"I'm very sorry to say, Katelyn, but a lifetime of abuse isn't something a person can typically talk through in a single day. It's alright if you feel that you need to take a day off from that particular subject, but I plan to revisit it regularly until we've had a chance to unpack everything."

"Oh … "

"Is that alright?"

" … yeah, I guess so."

"You've been very brave Katelyn. Don't feel bad if you need time."

"No, I can do it. What do you want to talk about?"

"First and foremost: Have you informed any of your professors yet? Ah. I'll take that look as a no."

"I'm really sorry."

"You don't need to apologize to me, Katelyn. I want you to tell them so that they can help you. Of course, I'm a little sad, but it's out of concern for you, not because you've disappointed me. I'm very proud of you, and I think you should be too. I just really hope you'll at least continue to consider it."

"Well, I did tell Hermione a little."

"That's excellent, Katelyn! That's very brave of you, to open up to your friend. What did you choose to share with her?"

"I just told her that my aunt and uncle hate me, and how they make me sleep in the cupboard. That was it."

"Cupboard?"

"The … the cupboard under the stairs?"

"I don't believe you mentioned that last time, Katelyn."

"I didn't?"

"It's not in my notes. You mean that you slept in a cupboard underneath the stairs?"

"Well … yeah. I guess sometimes I forget that it isn't normal."

"I remember you mentioned that they would often lock you in your room for several days at a time, or more even. But it wasn't your bedroom, it was a cupboard?"

"Oh … sorry. They make me call it a room so no one will find out. I forgot."

"Did you have a bed?"

"There's a mattress. I think I used to have a bed before they found out that I was a freak. In Dudley's toy room."

"What did we work on yesterday?"

"Oh … sorry. I'm not a freak. Sorry."

"There's no need to apologize. Can you tell me about Dudley's toy room?"

"It's just a room upstairs where Dudley keeps all of the toys he doesn't want anymore, or after he breaks them. He breaks a lot of stuff."

"And it's bigger than your cupboard?"

"Yes. I think it's the same size as his bedroom, but I'm not sure. I'm not allowed in either of them.

"Do you see what's not quite right about that, Katelyn?"

"What do you mean?"

"Would you agree that normally a cupboard should be used for storing things? And rooms should be used for sleeping in?"

"Oh. Well … Dudley wants to keep all of his broken stuff, but they don't want to keep me. That's why."

"And do you think that's okay?"

"You want me to say no."

"What I want is for you to learn to love yourself, Katelyn."

"Oh … "

"If you lived with your parents, do you think that you would have a bedroom, and your own bed?"

"I guess so."

"I also believe they would have let you have your own bed. And your aunt and uncle should have, even if they truly didn't want to care for you. It's no excuse to abuse or neglect you. Now, I've been thinking about different ways to work through all of the things you said your aunt and uncle do to you. I'd like to have you make a list, if that's alright with you."

"A - a list? Why?"

"A few reasons. Sometimes the most difficult things to say are easier to write down. It can be very cathartic. Imagine it's like writing a letter to someone that you're angry with, but not sending the letter."

"Oh, I've tried that before."

"Have you? Would you like to tell me about it?"

"It was month or two ago. I was having a bad day, and I couldn't sleep, so I wrote a letter to my parents."

"What did you write about?"

"Just about school. What I was doing."

"And did you feel better afterwards?"

"Not really. Well … mostly because it was hard to think of anything nice to write about. I felt like I was lying to them, because I didn't want to put any bad stuff in it."

"I see. We'll keep working hard so that next time, you can write a letter with lots of happy things in it. Okay?"

"Okay."

"So, the list. Not only can it be a good form of release to write them down, but I think that it will be helpful to establish any behaviours that might not have been harmful. Sometimes children do need to be disciplined, so if there's anything on the list that might be considered acceptable, we can go over those, as well as the behaviours that aren't. Does that sound good to you?"

"I … I can try."

"Would you like me to wait outside while you write?"

"No, I like it better when you're here."

"Okay, just tell me when you think you've finished."

* * *

Ron was feeling queasy. Hermione had spent the entire day trying to prepare him for his first visit with Katelyn. For the last hour, she'd been rattling off all kinds of advice on how to interact with her. How to ask the right kind of questions, things he shouldn't say, or how to steer clear of dangerous territory.

For once, he'd wanted to soak up every word. She explained that Katelyn hadn't even believed that the two of them were really her friends. That she'd had such low self-esteem that she thought they were only doing it out of pity.

Ron remembered the first time Hermione had pulled him aside, over a month ago.

" _Ron, I think … I think Katelyn is depressed."_

" _Depressed?"_

 _"It's a mood disorder, usually a persistent, long-term feeling of sadness or -"  
_

" _I know what depression is, Hermione."_

" _Right, sorry. But don't you think? She's always sad. She never smiles ... I've heard her crying a few times, you know. At night."_

 _"Merlin … And she barely ever eats anything, either."  
_

" _I know. I just don't know what to do to cheer her up. It's like she has no interests. She never seems excited about anything."_

" _Well, we can try, can't we? There's got to be some way to cheer her up."_

" _Yeah, you're right Ron. We'll just have to try."_

And, after a while, it even seemed like it was working. They encouraged her to eat at mealtimes, worked on homework together, and even stopped some of the bullying. Ron was particularly proud of his efforts to get the two girls to relax once in a while, since it seemed like they'd never do anything but study without his intervention. He even convinced Katelyn to play chess with him a few times.

As the weeks went on, Katelyn began smiling, and talking about more than just classes. Everything was looking up. They'd done it.

Or so he'd thought until, out of the blue, both Hermione and Katelyn weren't there when he woke up for breakfast. When Hermione returned, halfway through lunch, she was distraught. And she wouldn't tell him anything.

" _Katelyn is fine, Ron. That's all I can say."_

Ron could only remember feeling worse once in his life. That one occasion came after, when McGonagall called him up to her office.

 _"Thank you for coming, Mr Weasley. Please, it's best you sit down. I assume Miss Granger was true to her word and has not informed you yet?"  
_

" _No … she wouldn't tell me. Please, what happened to Katelyn?"_

 _The professor sighed deeply. She'd never looked older, more tired than she did now.  
_

" _Last night, Miss Potter attempted to take her own life. She survived, and is currently recovering in the hospital wing. She doesn't have any lasting injuries, but she may need to be sent home._

Ron had been speechless. It felt a bit like he'd been hit by a train. He'd only known Katelyn as a friend for a month or two, but he'd already grown very fond of her. The following day he'd been so upset that his brothers began worrying he'd caught dragon pox himself. He remembered wishing it could be that easy. He'd trade a year's worth of dragon pox for his friend to be okay.

"Ron?"

"Huh? Sorry."

"I was asking if you still feel nervous," Hermione said, "But I think I can guess."

"Yeah, I'm still a bit … shaken up."

"Don't worry, Ron. I was nervous too. It'll be okay. It's still just Katelyn."

He wished he could convince himself that it was true, but it felt like so much more. He knew it was so much more.

The walk to the hospital wing seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Madam Pomfrey gave them a quick greeting, and then Hermione guided him over.

"Katelyn, are you awake?" she said in a careful half-whisper. "Do you mind if we come in? Ron's here too."

He couldn't hear her response, but a moment later Hermione gave him a last reassuring smile and beckoned him in.

Ron didn't know what he was expecting to see, but there was Katelyn, just like he remembered her. She might have looked a bit paler, and a little thinner, but it was still her. There was a brown mark across her neck. He gulped as he realized what it was, and noticed that both girls were staring at him.

"So I uh ... I'm glad you're alright," he said.

It was odd that Katelyn didn't seem to be the nervous one for once. She looked so small surrounded by fluffy white pillows and sheets, like she was lying in a big, cushy throne.

"Thanks for coming to see me, Ron," Katelyn said softly. "Come sit."

He saw a slight smile touch upon her face, which was so different than the smile he was used to seeing. The thought had him smiling too, even though his stomach was still full of butterflies.

"Don't mention it," he said, taking the chair beside Hermione. "I wish I could have come sooner."

"Well, you shouldn't have punched Malfoy, then!" Hermione chided.

"I forgive you for punching him," Katelyn said with another small grin.

"You shouldn't encourage him, Katelyn. They nearly had another fight today. He's fixing to spend the rest of his year in detention if this keeps up."

"Well, if he keeps spouting rubbish about you, I'm gonna have to keep walloping him," he said a bit defensively. It wasn't his fault that Malfoy was a complete git. "That's all there is to it."

"T-thanks Ron … "

He looked up, dismayed to see that Katelyn's eyes were becoming misty. He suddenly felt very warm and uncertain. He remembered Hermione's many, many warnings about not upsetting her.

"I mean - I can stop if it bothers you," he blustered, "I just - he's so - "

"No, I mean it, Ron. That's really nice of you to do that for me." She sniffled and wiped at her eye. "You probably shouldn't get any more detentions though. Just let him say whatever he likes."

"Well, alright," he said, his cheeks still hot.

"So, how was your day, Katelyn?" Hermione asked, saving him from further embarrassment with a graceful change of topic. "Are you feeling well?"

"I'm okay."

Hermione gave him a pointed glance. They'd both heard that one plenty of times.

"I really am," she insisted. "I …"

She pulled her lower lip further into her mouth, eyes momentarily distant in thought.

"It's getting easier. I feel … lighter. Like I can think more clearly. I think going to the healer is really starting to help."

"Oh, Katelyn, that's wonderful," Hermione said brightly. "I'm so happy that you're feeling better. Do you still … er … nevermind."

"No, go ahead."

"Do you … " Hermione seemed to be dancing on a tightrope, carefully trying to pluck the words out of the air. "Would you still … "

"Do you mean if I'd still try to do it again?"

" … yes."

It was startling to realize that they were discussing if Katelyn would try to kill herself again. Just thinking it sounded crazy. Ron had just assumed that she'd want to live - that somehow things would fix themselves. It seemed like he'd been wrong about a lot of things lately.

"I want to say no … but I don't want to lie to you. It still hurts a lot, sometimes. It's hard to stop thinking about them."

"Your parents," Hermione said quietly, somewhere between asking and answering.

Katelyn nodded. Ron realized that he never knew how much they meant to her. She almost never mentioned them. He wondered how much else he still didn't know about her.

"But it's … well, it's not as bad as it used to be. I do feel better. Better than I have in a long time. And I sort-of promised Dumbledore that I would tell him if I ever came close to really doing it again."

"Katelyn, I'm … I'm really glad you chose to tell us. If there's ever anything we can do to help, please, don't be afraid to ask. We're here for you."

"Thanks, Hermione. I will."

Ron wasn't entirely sure he believed her. Katelyn had never asked either of them for help before, even as she was planning to take her own life. He couldn't do much more than hope that this had really changed, because right now he couldn't imagine anything he wanted to do more than help.

"While you're both here," Katelyn said into momentary silence, "I wanted to apologize."

"Whatever for, Katelyn? You're the last one who should be sorry."

"No - not … well, we talked a bit about how suicide affects the people closest … so … I figured I should say I'm sorry. I didn't think about what would happen to you two if I died. I'm sorry if I've caused you both trouble."

"No way, Katelyn," Ron heard himself saying, as he finally found his voice. "You shouldn't be sorry at all. We're sorry. We should have done something. We should have done more."

He felt Hermione's foot pressing down on top of his toes.

"What Ron means to say," she said evenly, giving his foot a last little stamp for good measure, "is that we accept your apology. Thank you. And we were very worried about you, but only because we care about you a lot."

"Yeah," he blustered. Apparently, he hadn't done as good a job of taking Hermione's earlier advice to heart as he'd thought. "Of course we accept your apology. I'm er - not very good at this, sorry."

"It's okay, Ron. Thanks," Katelyn said, seeming more amused than offended.

The atmosphere lightened considerably as they began to talk about school, and Hermione filled Katelyn in on what she'd been missing in lessons. She told Katelyn that she'd been collecting all of her assignments so that when she felt better she could get caught up. Ron, on the other hand, did what he did best, and told Katelyn about all of the new pranks the twins had been planning. Though Hermione didn't find the story about them spelling Filch's mop bucket to overflow with soap bubbles amusing, Katelyn seemed to enjoy it, at least a little.

The good mood was not fated to last, however. It all fell apart when, amongst the light chatter, Hermione absentmindedly picked up a piece of parchment from Katelyn's crowded bedside table.

"No! Don't look at that!" Katelyn gasped.

"Oh!" she cried, throwing the parchment back down like it had suddenly burned her. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking! I should never have - I just -"

Both girls looked suddenly horrified. In an instant, the air was so thick with tension that Ron couldn't have cut it with a knife.

"Why? What was it?" he asked.

"N-nothing," Katelyn stammered.

"K … Katelyn … "

Hermione sounded so very hurt, like a knife had gone through her chest. Both girls seemed to be on the verge of tears, while he was nothing more than helpless. He thought to reach for the parchment himself, but he was frozen to his chair.

"Please, it's not what you think … oh, I'm so stupid … no, no … "

Katelyn pulled her legs to her chest, curling up into a ball as if she was trying to defend herself from attack as she began sobbing defeatedly.

"Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you tell us?"

"Hermione, what is it?" Ron asked, desperate to understand. "What was that?"

"Please … "

"It's her aunt and uncle, Ron," Hermione said as she began crying too. "They abuse her. It's a list of things they did. So many awful, dreadful things."

Ron felt like his world had suddenly gone slightly off axis. Like he was about to slide out of his chair and float away. His heart was beating painfully, blood swelling in his ears.

"Katelyn …" she pleaded. "Why would you hide this from us, Katelyn?"

"Please," she whimpered. "You can't tell! They'd be so angry - they - if … "

Katelyn made a painful gasp between her sobs, as her eyes went wide and her breaths grew shorter, and shorter - she clutched her knees even tighter to her chest.

"Katelyn?" Hermione said in alarm. "Katelyn!"

She sprang to her feet and shook Katelyn by the shoulders, but she didn't respond. He realized that she was no longer breathing. Thankfully Hermione seemed far more prepared.

"You're having another panic attack, Katelyn," she said shakily. "You have to breathe. Katelyn! You have to breathe!"

Ron finally found his feet. They needed help. A short sprint later and he was banging on the door to Madam Pomfrey's office.

"Katelyn isn't breathing!" he said the moment her bewildered face appeared in the doorway.

Her expression instantly became deadly serious, and without a single word, she ran past him, across the wing to the bed, leaving Ron dashing after her. She was already performing a spell by the time he made it through the curtain.

Ron didn't hear the incantation, but Katelyn suddenly took an enormous gulp of air. Her eyes began to droop closed and she slumped back down to the mattress.

"What was that?" Hermione asked shrilly.

"A resting spell."

There was a moment of silence, as the three all seemed to be waiting in unison, listening for another breath. Only once her chest began rising and falling in a slow, steady motion, did anyone move again.

"What happened?" Pomfrey asked, still very serious.

Hermione slowly stooped down and took the parchment, holding it close to her chest. She fixed Ron with a look.

"What?" Pomfrey insisted.

"Go on, tell her," he said to Hermione. She would be able to put it into words. He hardly trusted himself to speak at all.

"I … I don't think we can, Ron," she said slowly.

"What do you mean?" he said, a bit more forcefully than he meant to.

"We weren't meant to see it, Ron. It was private. If we tell her, it would be a huge violation of her trust."

"What?!" he cried. "You can't seriously mean that we shouldn't say something."

"I … I promised her," Hermione said weakly. "Earlier - yesterday, she told me something, and she made me promise not to tell anyone. She has to do it when she feels ready."

"No Hermione, we have to! What if she's never ready? We can't let those bloody muggles get away with this!"

"Language, Weasley!" Pomfrey snapped before her expression instantly changed to a look of recognition. "Muggles?"

Before anyone could react, she took her wand and summoned the parchment right out of Hermione's hands.

Hermione stared at her, mouth agape.

"You haven't betrayed her trust if you didn't volunteer the information," she said simply. "Potter can blame me all she likes once we've got to the bottom of this."

Hermione looked for just a moment like she wanted to argue, before sighing in defeat. Pomfrey unfolded the parchment and began reading. Her expression changed almost imperceptibly as her eyes slowly worked their way down the page, growing ever more grim. It felt like an icy, silent eternity before she finished.

"I see," she said tonelessly. "Wait here."

She disappeared in her office for a moment, before returning with a phial and pressing it into Ron's palm.

"I'll be back shortly, give her this if she wakes."

Without another word, she left them with Katelyn, who was still sleeping, or maybe unconscious. But she was breathing, and that was what mattered.

In the heavy silence, Ron noticed the list, left behind by Pomfrey on the end of the bed. Despite a dreadful feeling that he would rather not know, he was compelled to pick it up.

"Oh, Ron … " Hermione said gingerly, "Are you sure?"

He was not sure at all, but he nodded his head anyway. With a tight, angry knot of fear in his chest, he began to read and was confronted with a massive list of tightly scrawled words in dark ink. Feeling overwhelmed, he began at a random spot in the middle.

 _push me towards the fireplace if I get too close for laughs_

 _lock me in the back garden when it's raining_

 _shut my hand in the car door_

 _dudley bends my fingers the wrong way until I scream_

 _make me kneel and beg to use the loo_

 _make me eat charcoal if I burn any food_

 _made me sit in a tub of ice water when I got better marks than Dudley on accident_

Ron couldn't believe his eyes. He felt like he was going to be sick - like he was in a nightmare. He had to force himself to keep reading, dragging his eyes across the page as half of his mind protested.

 _aunt Petunia will try to hit me on the head with the frying pan if I get in her way_

 _she tells me I'm too ugly to have any dresses or nice clothes_

 _if Uncle Vernon has a bad day at work he lies about me talking back so he can hit me with his belt_

 _they kick me down the stairs_

 _sometimes if he is drunk he will try to choke me until I black out_

He had a sudden vision of Katelyn cowering in fear as the shadowy hands of a big, ugly muggle closed around her throat, and he felt his stomach heave.

"I … I'll be right back," he said tightly, heading for the washroom on the opposite side of the wing. If Hermione said anything as he left, he didn't hear it.

Once inside, he leaned on the basin, splashing water on his face and trying to catch the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He couldn't believe it. He tried to imagine his own parents doing anything even close to that awful, but even the fierce Molly Weasley had hardly so much as spanked him at her angriest (and he couldn't say he hadn't deserved it).

After a moment, he managed to calm himself down, though it was impossible to get the awful images out of his head.

"Ron, I'm sorry, I should have warned you," Hermione said when he returned.

"I don't think it would have helped."

She nodded sadly, still teary-eyed.

"What do we do, Ron?"

"I don't know. I feel like I don't know anything anymore."

Hermione put her head in her hands as she began crying softly once more. He reached out a hand to comfort her, gently patting her shoulder.

"It'll be okay," he said as firmly as he could manage. "I'm sure it'll be okay."

Ron sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, with listening to the sound of Hermione's quiet sobs, watching Katelyn's chest rising and falling. One hand rubbed Hermione's shoulder, the other tightly clutched the phial of calming draught, as he wanted to be ready the moment Katelyn woke.

When the door to the hospital wing finally opened, he could hear two sets of footsteps. Pomfrey stepped through the curtain, with McGonagall in tow. She looked grim, arms folded in front of her.

"Good evening, Mister Weasley, Miss Granger," she said halfheartedly.

"Good evening," murmured Hermione, who had only recently regained her composure.

Madam Pomfrey took the parchment and handed it to the professor.

Ron watched with bated breath as she read. McGonagall seemed to grow both angrier and sadder at once, until her knuckles had gone pale and her lips were pursed tightly.

"Oh you poor girl," she muttered to herself once she'd finished, "What have we done?"

She turned to survey both of them.

"So neither of you knew of this?"

"No," Ron said, feeling dejected.

Hermione, however, was silent.

"Miss Granger? Surely you would have come to me if you suspected that she was not being treated well at home."

She bit her lip.

"Hermione? I assure you that you won't be disciplined, but I believe that if ever there was a time for honesty, it would be now."

She nodded, eyes fixed to the floor.

"Well, last night, when I was talking with her … she told me that they make her sleep in the cupboard under the stairs."

McGonagall looked dumbstruck.

"And you didn't think to inform me? Miss Granger, I'll have you know that I thought you to be quite bright."

She flushed bright red at what seemed to be both a compliment and an insult at once.

"I'm so sorry, professor!" she blustered. "She made me promise not to tell! It took so long to gain her trust … I thought … I was trying to convince her to come forward herself, but I had no idea it was this bad … I swear, I didn't know! I'm really sorry. "

McGonagall's expression instantly softened. Hermione looked close to breaking into tears for the third time that night.

"There, there, dear," McGonagall said with a deep sigh.

She reached over and patted her shoulder.

"I see that you were just doing what you thought was right. I must admit it would have been better to hear it from Katelyn herself, rather than reading it off a scrap of parchment. Poppy, do you think she'll wake soon?"

"She may be resting for quite some time still. The poor girl has been exhausted from lack of sleep these last few days. I hear her waking up in the middle of the night. Usually more than once."

"Oh, that wretched old codger is in for it when he shows his sorry hide here again," McGonagall growled rather suddenly.

Hermione shot Ron wide-eyed look of disbelief. He thought his own expression was probably similar.

"It's probably for the best that you have the evening to cool off, Minerva," Pomfrey said. "I'm sure he'll have quite the explanation for us in the morning."

"He had better," she said, her eyes still blazing. "I _told him_ that those were the _worst_ sort of muggles. Oh, I just knew it."

Ron wondered who exactly she was talking about. Surely she wouldn't talk about Dumbledore that way. Maybe she meant someone from the ministry.

"Well, there's no use fretting over it now," Pomfrey said calmly. "I think some rest would do us all a bit of good."

"You're right, of course," she said exasperatedly.

"I can watch over her tonight. Go get some sleep."

"Thank you, Poppy. I think now would be a good time to crack open that scotch that Rosmerta sent over the break. And you two had best get to bed."

Hermione sent Ron another scandalized look as head of Gryffindor house strode away.

"Don't forget you still have to teach tomorrow, dear," Pomfrey called out after her.

She turned to the two and sighed.

"She's right. You both ought to get back to your dormitory."

"Can we stay with her just for a little while?" Ron said. He nearly asked to stay the night, but he didn't want to push his luck.

Pomfrey looked at the two, back to Katelyn, and then sighed again.

"I suppose. I'll give you ten minutes. Fetch me if she wakes."

He listened as her footsteps faded, and the door to her office clicked shut. For a while, they both just watched Katelyn.

"Ron, do you think Professor McGonagall was referring to Dumbledore earlier? She seemed so angry."

Hermione's brow was furrowed. Like she had a hunch.

"Maybe … but what for? Do you think it's his fault somehow?"

"I don't know Ron. I doubt they'd tell us if it was."

"Yeah, I guess so."

She let the matter rest, and they sat in silence for a few more minutes. Ron figured her brain was probably still working it over. He, however, felt scrambled. The entire day had been a jumbled mess and he felt completely drained.

When it seemed like their time was nearly up, Hermione stood, hovering over Katelyn's bedside.

"I'm so sorry for everything Katelyn."

She reached out and gently took the sleeping girl's hand.

"I promise that we'll help you work through this. Everything will be okay. I promise."

Ron felt moved, and he stepped to the other side of the bed and took Katelyn's other hand. He had the startling realization that he'd never touched Katelyn before. Not once. She always kept herself at arm's length. He felt a surge of anger and pain as he finally made the connection why.

"You'll be alright," he said, his voice shaky. "Hermione and I are with you. We won't let you down. Not again."

He squeezed her hand lightly.

"I promise."


	13. Chapter 13

_Where am I?!_

Katelyn sat bolt-upright as her consciousness jolted back to her like a bucket of ice water being dumped over her head. For a desperate, irrational moment she expected to be locked in her cupboard, racked with throbbing pain. But she was in the hospital wing like she always was, sometime in the early morning hours.

The very first thing that she remembered was Hermione finding the list. She might have meant well but _why oh why did she have to be able to read so bloody fast_? Katelyn thought she remembered her telling Ron too, before she'd broken down into one of the worst panic attacks of her life.

Dammit. Dammit! What was she going to do?! Her mind was in a daze yet running at a hundred kilometres an hour. Her head ached, as if her own brain was bashing against the inside of her head in an attempt to escape.

She slipped out of bed, grabbed her glasses, snatched up her wand, and pulled on her shoes and jacket. Her father's cloak was still neatly tucked away in the inner pocket, and she hurriedly threw it over herself.

Katelyn had no clue where she was going, but she could feel a deathly hourglass looming over her, gushing away until her the moment when her whole world collapsed. She knew she had to run. She had to escape.

In fact, as she wound her way through the castle with well-practised ease, it occurred to her that maybe she should have run away a long time ago. She'd thought about it plenty when she'd lived with the Dursleys, but she knew that if she was found and returned, she would regret it.

No one could find her now. Not when she had her cloak.

Her heart was thudding loudly in her ears by the time she reached the castle doors. It took a moment to work up the courage, but she forced herself to slowly prize them open, letting the cold February air and gentle moonbeams mingle with the orange glow of torchlight. Her hands were shaking as she slipped outside and clumsily pushed them closed again.

"Good evening, Katelyn."

Her heart leapt out of her chest, and she sprang backwards, crashing against the door and landing in a heap, tangled in her invisibility cloak.

"Oh my," said the headmaster, stooping down to hand her glasses back to her. "Not quite the effect I intended."

Heart still thudding in her ears, she looked up to see that he wasn't angry, nor was he amused. He just looked sad. She averted her gaze, and took a moment to breathe, knowing that she was very much on the verge of bursting into tears.

"Are you alright, Katelyn?"

"F-fine … " she said, though her voice broke pathetically halfway through. "I'm fine."

She snatched the glasses from his hand and jammed them on. The headmaster settled into a kneel, perhaps realizing that she wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.

"It is perfectly, wonderfully natural to not be okay, Katelyn. I would not wish, nor expect for you to be okay, knowing what I now know."

She didn't really want to listen to him, to hear his words - not right now - but she couldn't help remembering Healer Burch saying something similar.

"Why don't we take a brief stroll up to my office?" he said. "I'd hate for you to catch a cold."

Once more he extended a hand, and she took it. He was surprisingly strong, she thought foggily, as she clumsily rose to her feet and unwound the cloak from around her legs.

"You'd best continue to wear your cloak."

Katelyn nodded, feeling a distant spark of reprieve as the fabric draped about her shoulders and she disappeared from sight.

During the walk, it occurred to her that she had never been to Dumbledore's office before. She wondered if many had. They ascended several flights of stairs, before arriving at a separate tower, outside which stood a pair of big stone gargoyles. They both came to life, bowed slightly to the headmaster, and the door opened of its own accord. Inside there was a moving staircase, that spiralled upwards, taking them to the office itself.

"Here we are," Dumbledore said.

He ushered her through the large, ornate, circular room towards a small side area, a cosy alcove with armchairs, a sofa, and a fireplace. The hearth quietly sprang to life as they approached, filling with gentle flames. At the headmaster's prompting, she sank down into the sofa, and carefully tucked her father's cloak under her arm. He took a seat in the closest armchair.

"So, Katelyn. Shall I presume that you were simply on your way coming find me?"

She felt a small shock as she realized he was referring to the request he had made two long days ago. That she come to him if she ever felt that she might make another attempt.

"I - I wasn't going to … " she murmured. "It wasn't that, I swear. I was … I just needed to get away. Just for a little while."

"I see. Were you fleeing from anything in particular?"

"They haven't told you?"

"They certainly have not, as I only just returned to the castle now."

"Oh." She never knew he was gone. What had he been doing at the gates to the castle in the middle of the night? She supposed it didn't matter.

"Now, you mentioned something that I ought to have been told?"

"I … "

She wasn't ready for this.

"I don't think I can … "

"Well, perhaps I may share with you what I have learned, then. For you see, Katelyn, over the course of these last few difficult days, I developed something of a hunch. This evening I spent some time with your relatives and I … well, I am not entirely certain how to say it … other than that I am woefully, miserably, sorry. I have seen the truth, and there are no words that would suffice."

Katelyn's mind was frozen. There was nothing but shock.

"Had I known … had I even an inkling … I am so, so desperately sorry, my dear child … I could never ask for your forgiveness."

"You didn't hurt them, did you?" she heard herself saying.

Dumbledore was silent for a long moment.

"They are unharmed, though I must admit that it took a great deal of willpower to leave them so."

Katelyn knew there were more questions she had to ask, but her mind was blank. She only realized that she was crying when her eyes began to burn, and she could no longer see. There was nothing for it, so she just let the tears flow, sinking into an endless sea of sobs and misery.

* * *

A long time passed before the storm inside of her head receded. At first, it had felt like the rainstorm between each of her ribs, the anchor tied around her sternum, might never leave her. But in time, the tears began to ebb, and like the clouds parting, she could begin to think clearly once more. Dumbledore was still sitting in the armchair, head bowed as if in mourning.

"What did they tell you?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

"They told me the truth," he said. "All of it. Every cruel, hateful, unfair, unjust, unloving thing they have ever done to you."

"How? They wouldn't … they - … You really didn't hurt them?"

"For a wizard as powerful as myself … it was simple. Easy. Painless, for your relatives, though most would say that is a fate too good for them. There exists a very ancient form of magic, seldom known, even more seldom practised, which allows the user to venture into the minds and memories of others. Against another wizard, it can be difficult and dangerous to employ, but employed against a muggle, especially an unsuspecting one, it's only slightly more difficult than reading a children's picture book."

So he had … read their minds?

"Does that mean … you … you saw - "

"Yes, I saw many terrible, terrible things, Katelyn. But please, if you believe anything I tell you here, please believe that, if you wish it so, I will take what I have seen with me to my grave."

She tried hard not to think about he would have seen. What he knew.

"You won't tell anyone what you saw?"

"Unless you wish it so."

"But why would I want that?"

"Perhaps not now, but someday in the distant future, perhaps you might seek justice for their wrongdoings. Having copies of these memories would prove most useful."

"Oh."

Katelyn thought that would be the very, very distant future indeed. They would kill her for certain. She couldn't imagine how angry they would be if they even knew she was having this conversation.

"But they don't know you did anything to them?"

"They may find themselves with dreadful headaches tomorrow, but they will not remember so much as a knock on their door."

"So they won't be mad at me?"

At this, Dumbledore gave her a slightly quizzical look.

"For revealing their horrible treatment of you? No, I suppose they would not be. However, what concerns me more, almost as much as my having allowed you to suffer as I have, is that you did not feel that you could reveal this information to us yourself. That you did not trust me or any other member of staff to help you, and to keep you from further harm … "

Katelyn shook her head frantically.

"A teacher at my old school tried to help once … they found out … and they told her I was just a liar. She believed them, because they're really good at - you know ... they - I … "

Katelyn shuddered and hugged her arms to herself, trying not block out memories of the punishments she'd received after they'd come back from the meeting. She thought she could still feel the bruises sometimes, when she heard metal jangling.

"I just - I can't let them find out. I never said anything. I didn't tell, I promise!"

"Katelyn, dear child, you are safe. No one can hurt you here."

She shook herself. Right. She was still at Hogwarts. Privet Drive was hundreds of miles away.

"Katelyn. We will never let them hurt you again. If it is what you wish, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you never see them so long as you live."

Her brain felt like a gong that had just been rung, reverberating out through her body so that she couldn't feel her fingers or toes - or anything at all. There was just warmth.

"I … I don't have to go back?"

"No. Never again."

"Wh … what … " she heard herself mumbling as her world suddenly turned lopsided and she could no longer see. Just blissful blackness.

When she woke up, she was back in her bed in the hospital wing. The headmaster was sat at her side. The pale glow of dawn was beginning to trickle its way into the wing. She could really do without waking up like this every morning.

"What happened?" she murmured.

"Ah, hello again, Katelyn," Dumbledore said softly. "It seems that the news was either received very well, or very poorly. You fainted if you cannot recall."

"Oh."

She sat up slightly, rubbing at her temples.

"Was it all real, then? I wasn't just dreaming?"

"It was very, very real indeed."

Tears were already beginning to swell in her eyes.

"O-oh … " she said. "Wow."

Dumbledore smiled.

"Though I suppose it is too late, I assure you Katelyn: Things needn't have come this far to reach such a conclusion. I would never have allowed this to happen had I known. I do not expect your forgiveness, but, may I at the very least attempt to explain the circumstances that led to your placement with the Dursleys in the first place? If only out of the selfish desire to assuage my conscience, that you know the truth?"

"Because no one else wanted me," she said automatically. "So they had to do it. That's why I was abandoned on their doorstep after my parents died."

Dumbledore's delicate smile slipped a little.

"Sorry - I mean, I know I'm not supposed to think that. But that's what they always told me. Healer Burch says it isn't true, but I still don't really get it. Why else would I have lived with them if they didn't want me?"

She realized there was now a tear in Dumbledore's eye. She didn't think someone like him was supposed to cry.

"Katelyn, my dear, sweet child," he said, voice deep with sorrow, "that could not be further from the truth. There were many who would have been happy to welcome you into their family. In fact, I expect some families might have even fought tooth and nail for the opportunity. However, you were placed with your relatives for a very specific reason. Ah."

The headmaster paused for a moment to dab at the corner of his eye with a conjured handkerchief.

"You understand how your parents lost their lives, fighting to protect you from Voldemort, yes?"

She nodded.

"Yeah. My aunt and uncle always told me they were drunks that died in a car crash, but when Hagrid came with my letter, he told me the truth."

Dumbledore's face sank just slightly, but he seemed to force himself to smile despite clearly looking unhappy.

"It was a brave, noble, and loving thing they did that night. And that, I'm terribly sorry to say, is also why you were placed with the Dursleys. For when your mother sacrificed herself to protect you, she unknowingly created one of the most powerful protective magics that I know to exist. It is an obscure thing, and precious few study this type of enchantment, but I believe that it is very much what kept you alive that night. And that very same magic lived on in your blood, and in that of your aunt. The protective charm to keep you safe from those who would do you harm."

It was a beautiful thing to hear, but it didn't make any sense. She'd been harmed plenty of times, in plenty of ways.

"But who else would want to hurt me? Voldemort's dead."

"Voldemort had many followers. Though many were captured, or even killed in the time following his demise, there was always a very real risk that some of his most loyal might try to finish what he started. However, it occurs to me now that this protective magic was flawed. For it would not protect you from your own family. Nor would it protect you at all if you could not call Privet Drive home. And, as I discovered this evening … the protections fell some time long ago. Though whether it was because you did not call it home, or because the Dursleys held no love for you … I cannot say."

' _Held no love for you.'_ The words rang in her ears, but she told herself that she already knew it. Some part of her knew it, no matter what they said. No matter that it was her always fault, that her abnormalities forced them to act the way they did. They could have lived a normal life without her.

"And of course, I had placed a charm of my own, that might alert me should you ever face mortal danger … but I had never considered that your own family would so much as lay a hand on you. So I remained ignorant. I would not tell you this were it not for my desire to repent, and to be nothing but perfectly, completely honest with you: I am a natural meddler. I often desire to put my big ugly nose where it has no right to be. And so, in the hope that I could change I had … thought it might be a nice surprise to see the daughter of James and Lily Potter arrive as a healthy, well adjusted young witch who was ignorant to her fame. So I did not check in on you as I was often tempted to do."

He dabbed the handkerchief at the corner of his eye once more, hanging his head.

" … I was such a fool. And I still am, it seems."

"So my mum's magic is gone? It didn't work?"

Dumbledore sighed and gave her a wistful look.

"Perhaps not so. I believe that some of your mother's protection … her love, still lives on in you. However, there is certainly no reason for you to ever return to that foul place."

"Wow … " was all she could say.

Katelyn didn't really know what to do anymore. She felt so light that it was dizzying.

"But what if they find out that you know?" she asked, despite herself. Somewhere deep down, perhaps she knew it was irrational. But most of her … most of her didn't care. "What if they think I told?"

Dumbledore smiled with his mouth but frowned with his eyes.

"My dear girl, I promise you this: I will personally ensure that they never lay another hand on you. In fact, perhaps you might like to go to the edge of the grounds with me and supervise as I cast a few extra charms. Though muggles are already unable to find Hogwarts, I don't see the arm in ensuring that your relatives are specifically prohibited."

The intelligent half of her brain realized that there was no point but, to the other half - the half that was still just a frightened, confused little girl - the idea sounded delightful.

"I should be really, really cross with you, shouldn't I?" she asked, though she knew the answer.

"Yes, my dear. You should be furious. In fact, I admit I am almost concerned that you aren't enveloped in rage right at this very moment."

Weirdly, she felt herself smiling. Not just muscles in her face, but she felt it deep down, too.

"Okay, maybe another day I'll shout at you. I'm too … too happy right now, I think."

"Well … "

He paused mid-thought, lifting his index finger in the air and shifting his gaze sideways, towards the entrance to the wing. As if on cue, the doors opened.

"I believe we have company," he said with a melancholy sigh. "Do not feel that you must spare me any suffering, Katelyn. For I surely am deserving of whatever you may be about to witness."

Once more right on cue, the curtains to Katelyn's bed were whipped away, revealing a furious Professor McGonagall, striding across the room.

"Get away from her you miserable old windbag!" she cried.

Her eyes were blazing, and Katelyn couldn't help but scoot back defensively.

"Ah, good morning, Minerva," he replied calmly. He lifted his arms slightly, as if in mild surrender, and graciously took a large step away from her bed.

"Don't you ' _Minerva'_ me you cad!" She drew her wand with a motion so swift it might have appeared out of thin air, and stuck it right to the headmaster's chin. "I should jinx you 'till you're nothing more than a pile of soot!"

At that moment Pomfrey burst from her office, her wand also raised.

"Not if I don't do it myself," she said.

"Though I would not blame either of you if you did," he began, still calm and collected, "it may not be in Katelyn's best interests -"

"Don't you _DARE_ talk about her best interests!" McGonagall howled. Red sparks burst from the tip of her wand, some of them landing in his long white beard and beginning to smoulder. "Sending her to live with those horrid, despicable muggles! I told you that they were the worst sort! And yet I _trusted you_ that she would be safe, and happy! I won't even ask how you'll live with yourself when I know that I cannot! Has she told you what they've put her through?! The horrors she has experienced at their hands?!"

"She has not had to, my dear friend. Last night, I saw them for myself, first hand."

McGonagall only seemed to grow angrier, until her face was bright red. More sparks shot out of her wand, and Katelyn saw Dumbledore wince slightly as one pinged off of his spectacles.

"You - you! Vile - evil - You had no right to ask such a thing of her!"

She turned to Katelyn, who was still cowering on her bed with her arms wrapped around her knees. She knew she would never, never cross her head of house, so long as she lived.

"Katelyn, don't believe whatever he has told you, child! There is no excuse for what you've gone through, no matter what - " she rounded on the headmaster once more, glaring her accusation, " - wretched, awful lies he's concocted to try and explain his treachery. How dare you ask her to go through that once more! How - "

If there was ever a testament to the power of Albus Dumbledore, it was that McGonagall, even in her otherworldly rage, still fell silent as he calmly raised a hand.

"If I may have a moment to explain, please," he said graciously.

"You may certainly try," Pomfrey said with a huff.

"I did not ask Katelyn to share her memories with me, nor did I intend to. I procured the memories from her aunt, uncle, and cousin themselves. In fact, I had rather hoped to avoid broaching the matter with Katelyn until we had the opportunity to discuss. So that we might handle the situation … delicately."

The fire radiating from both women seemed to lessen slightly, though neither looked anywhere close to pleased. McGonagall shot Katelyn a slightly guilty look.

"So you mean to tell me that you didn't know?" she said. "That the all-powerful Albus Dumbledore didn't have an inkling as to the poor girl's treatment in the wretched excuse for a home that _you_ placed her into?"

Dumbledore bowed his head sadly.

"No. I did not. There may have been signs, had I not been too foolish to look. Too blinded by optimism to believe it even if I had. And though her aunt and uncle went to great lengths to hide it, there is no one to blame but myself for not seeking the glimmers truth where they could be found."

Katelyn sat in rapt silence as he explained himself once more, both why she was placed there and why it may have all been for nought. She appreciated that he wasn't trying to excuse himself, only to explain. She saw the two women go from angry, to infuriated, to dejected, and back again. By the time he was finished, they both looked as exhausted as they did angry.

"So this is true, Katelyn?" McGonagall asked, her face no longer taught with anger.

In a sudden moment of tension, she realized that she needed to make a decision. Did she truly believe the man? Did he seem genuinely remorseful?

"I … I think so," she said. "I don't think he meant for any of this to happen."

Dumbledore smiled at her words, and for a moment she felt a little glow of happiness. She chose to trust, and it felt good. Just like Healer Burch said.

"Well," McGonagall said with a sigh. "I suppose that settles that then. Now, what on earth are we to do with you, Katelyn?"

"I don't want to go to an orphanage," she blurted out.

Uncle Vernon loved threatening to drop her off at an orphanage, telling her about all of the awful things that happened there. How they might sell her into slavery or harvest her organs to sell on the black market. No, she did not want to go to an orphanage.

"Heavens no, child," McGonagall said incredulously. "That's the last thing we would ever do. I'm certain we can find a lovely family for you to stay with … Merlin, I'll even take you in myself if I have to."

Katelyn was momentarily speechless. However, she realized that McGonagall's words had been ' _if she had to'_ , which meant that she didn't actually want to take her. Come to think, she doubted anyone would. It was kind of her to say, at least.

"Oh," she murmured, her momentary surge of happiness fading. "Do we have to do it right away? Can I still stay here?"

"Of course, dear! You are forever and always welcome here at Hogwarts."

"I believe," Dumbledore chimed in, "that it may take some time to officiate a transfer of guardianship. I am certain that we can find a suitable family before the end of term, but, in the unlikely occasion that we cannot, I will also see about arranging for you to stay in the castle during the summer instead."

"I'd like that," she said eagerly. In fact, the only thing she didn't like about Hogwarts was the other students, so an empty castle would be heaven. Maybe her future didn't look quite so grim, then.

Just then, the doors to the hospital wing opened and, her privacy curtains long gone, she saw Hermione and Ron both step into the wing. Ron looked like he'd only just rolled out of bed, while Hermione looked as if she'd never slept in the first place. Both looked worried, freezing in their tracks as they saw Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Pomfrey all gathered around her.

"Good evening Ron, Hermione," Dumbledore said brightly.

"What's going on?" asked Hermione, hurrying to her bedside.

"Katelyn are you alright?" asked Ron, likewise looking nervous.

"Yeah. I'm okay."

"She has had a very eventful morning," Dumbledore said.

"I hardly think 'eventful' would suffice it," quipped McGonagall, still slightly exasperated. Pomfrey nodded her agreement.

"Does that mean … " began Ron.

"Yeah. They know."

Her two friends shared a look. Hermione hung her head.

"I'm so sorry, Katelyn. I swear I didn't mean for them to find out. But after you … er … "

She took another glance around, likely trying to find a delicate way to phrase it. Katelyn, however, didn't blame her. It was her own fault. If anything, she was just wishing that everyone would stop apologizing to her.

"It's okay. It was bound to happen eventually. It's … I understand if you don't want to be friends with me anymore."

"Of course we still want to be friends with you Katelyn!" cried Ron.

"He's right. Us knowing about your home life doesn't change anything."

"But -"

Katelyn opened her mouth to explain, but Ron was faster.

"You're still you," he insisted. "That's what we care about."

"We would never think any less of you for the way you were treated. Never. Okay?"

"Okay … sorry."

"You're alright, Katelyn," Ron said. "No need to apologize."

"And now you don't have to worry about keeping secrets anymore."

"I'm … Yeah. I think I'm glad it happened, in the end."

"Perhaps we shall leave you three to it, for a trice," said Dumbledore. "There are some things I would like to discuss with my colleagues, if I may."

"Indeed," said McGonagall.

Pomfrey regarded the three as if a strong warning was on the tip of her tongue, but in the end, she just sighed, apparently giving it up as a bad job.

"So you're really alright?" Ron said once the professors had shut the door to Pomfrey's office.

She nodded.

"Yeah, I feel exhausted, but really good. Dumbledore promised that he would keep them away. He said that later he'd take me with to cast extra protection charms around the castle.

"Your relatives?" asked Hermione. "That's very kind of him, but you don't really think they'd try to come to Hogwarts, do you?"

She suddenly felt incredibly daft. They would be furious if they knew but logic dictated that they couldn't just march up into the castle, if they could even find it. She never did seem to be able to think rationally when it concerned the Dursleys.

"No," she admitted, her cheeks flushing, "I guess not. He probably just said he'd do it to make me feel better. I'm being stupid."

"Well, if it makes you feel better then I think it's definitely worth doing," Ron said firmly. "You aren't being stupid at all. I'm sure I'd be terrified too if I was in your shoes."

"I agree with Ron. You aren't being stupid to be afraid of your family with the way they've treated you. I doubt it could hurt to cast a few extra charms for some peace of mind. In fact, I'd be very interested to see how the spells are performed. We'd both be happy to come with if that would make you feel better."

"Thanks," she murmured, now feeling embarrassed for an entirely different reason, as her two friends smiled at her. "I'd like that."

"Speaking of that - what's going to be done about them?"

"About what?"

"Your aunt and uncle? Surely they aren't going to go on living their lives like normal. Some of the things they did are completely illegal in the muggle world, you know. You could take them to court, I expect. I think that my parents would know some very good lawyers."

"Hermione, I don't think Katelyn wants to think about that right now," Ron said delicately.

Bless him, Katelyn thought. She very much did not want to think about them any more than she already had today. Let alone think about facing them in court. She shivered slightly.

"Yeah, maybe later," she said, giving Ron a quick look of thanks. His smile in response made up for the slight dizziness she felt just thinking about her relatives.

"Hermione, it's okay," she added, heading off the apology that she was clearly about to launch into. "You're a good friend."

"Well, alright," Hermione said, shuffling in her seat as she also grinned. "Later then."

Katelyn sighed contentedly, sitting back into her pillows. She wanted to savour this moment for as long as she could.

* * *

"So, guess what?"

"My, Katelyn! I don't think I've ever seen you this excited. Please, go on."

"They know."

"Oh, Katelyn! That's wonderful! I'm so happy you found the courage to tell them the truth. I knew you could do it."

"Well, I didn't really _tell_ them … I accidentally left the list we made out on my table … and Hermione saw it … and then I had a panic attack and fainted. But it's okay! Dumbledore said that I'll never have to see them again. And they'll never even know I told. He promised."

"That's … It sounds like you had quite the day. You fainted?"

"Well, sort of. I think Madam Pomfrey had to knock me unconscious with a spell because I couldn't breathe. Hermione said I was turning purple."

"But afterwards you felt better?"

"Er - no ... It was dark when I woke up and I panicked again when I remembered what happened. I tried to run from the castle but Dumbledore was there when I got outside."

"Oh my. Please, continue."

"He was just coming back from Privet Drive. I guess he sort-of figured it out himself somehow, that something was … wrong … so he went there and used magic that let him read their minds. He found out about … what they're really like. He never even saw the list. He says he saw it firsthand."

"And are you alright with that? I believe using that type of magic is highly illegal."

"Oh. I didn't know that, sorry. He said he didn't hurt them. He says that they won't remember him ever being there."

"Wiping a muggle's memory, or anyone's memory, is also illegal, you know."

"Oh no. I really didn't! I'm sorry!"

"Hey now, it's alright. Relax, Katelyn, you certainly didn't do anything wrong. It's okay. Relax ... There we are. Now, ethically, I can't say that I approve of his actions, but it sounds like he didn't do any serious harm. You may want not want to share that information with anyone else though. Do you feel angry with him at all? Does it feel like he violated your trust in any way by going to them without telling you first?"

"I mean … at first, I was really upset. A cried for a long time. He even said he thought I should be angry. But he apologized a lot and he explained why I lived with them in the first place. There was magic protecting me, from when my mum died trying to save me. Or at least there would have been if my aunt and uncle had ever loved me. … Wow … it feels weird to say that."

"It should, Katelyn. But it's good that you can say it. Now, back to Professor Dumbledore. What happened after?"

"Right. That's when we went to his office, and he explained everything to me."

"Did you feel better after talking with him?"

"Oh. I actually fainted again. But when I woke up I felt a lot better."

"You fainted twice in one day?"

"When he told me that I didn't have to live with them anymore."

"Well, that's wonderful news! You really have been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours, Katelyn. But that is truly wonderful to hear. And I'm incredibly glad that it seems your professors are taking it seriously. Do you still feel worried about your relatives at all?"

"Well … yes. I can't really help it, though. I know that I'm just being paranoid. Dumbledore says that he'll cast some more charms around the castle just to be extra sure that they can't ever find me. Even though they probably couldn't get into the castle in the first place."

"That's nothing to be ashamed of, Katelyn. A lifetime of abuse is often hard to cope with rationally. Psychological damage of the kind they've managed to inflict on you over the years can manifest itself in all kinds of ways. Anger issues, self-harm, substance abuse … All things considered, I would say you're doing incredibly well. Now, you said you no longer have to live with your relatives. Are you making other arrangements?"

"Dumbledore said it would take some time to find a family for me to live with. They said I don't have to go to an orphanage though, so that's nice."

"Very good. I hope you'll keep me informed as to how the search goes. Do you think you might be ready to return to class? I hate to labour the point, but I hate to see you fall behind if it can be helped. I think it's important to keep this positive momentum going and keep pushing forward. Don't forget, you have the support of the headmaster, your head of house, and your friends Ron and Hermione, now too."

"Oh … I … I guess."

"I'm certain that if you ask, they'll do everything they can to help. You might not even have to ask. I can't imagine your professors would let you continue to be bullied with everything that's happened lately. The professor McGonagall I know has probably been feeling very upset with herself over how you were treated under her watch. And likely eager to make amends, too."

"Maybe. I just … I'm still scared. What if someone else finds out?"

"Well, as I understand, only four people know. I think - "

"Five."

"Oh?"

"Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall, and Dumbledore. Then Ron and Hermione."

"Ah, of course. Well, I think you can trust those five people to keep your secret. I'm assuming you have the list somewhere safe now."

"Ron and Hermione helped me burn it, just before. Is - is that okay?"

"Hah! Yes, that's actually wonderful, as long as you did it safely. Hopefully you all enjoyed that. So, how about this. Why don't you bring it up with Professor McGonagall the next time you see her and you two can discuss? There's no need to rush into it, but I don't want to see you let fears and anxieties deprive you of your opportunities. I know you can do this. Especially with their help."

"Okay … I … I'll try."

"Excellent, Katelyn. And if you can't just yet, that's okay too. You _are_ trying, and that's what counts."

" … Thanks."

"There's no denying that you've had it very rough, Katelyn, but hopefully this is the beginning of a new chapter of your life story."

"I hope so too."

"Well, how would you like to take a break for a little while? I think you've had quite enough on your plate for one day."

"Okay, yeah. A break sounds nice."


	14. Chapter 14

"Are you sure you're ready, Katelyn? There's no shame in taking another day if you still don't feel well."

"Yes, I'm - Hey, I can do my own tie, Hermione."

"Oh - er, right. Sorry."

"No, don't be. But that is the third time you've asked me that, you know."

Today was the day. Katelyn was returning to class. It had been nearly two weeks since that fateful night, and with Healer Burch's encouragement, she'd finally told McGonagall that she was ready to leave the hospital wing. She was terrified, naturally, but she realized that it probably wouldn't become any less so with another week of doing nothing.

Her last few days in the hospital wing had been spent getting caught up on her classwork with Hermione, while Ron focused his efforts on trying to stay awake, or occasionally tempting them into taking a break. He hadn't been particularly successful at either, but he was very good company all the same. Last night they'd managed to sneak Katelyn back up to her dorm without meeting anyone (save for a few seventh years that were too busy revising for their exams to take any notice), but it was safe to say she couldn't hide away any longer.

She just had to keep reminding herself that nobody knew the truth. They'd probably all still hate her, but they didn't know the truth.

"Yeah … I think I'm as ready as I'll ever be," she said, giving a last tug to make sure that her self-taught four-in-hand knot was snug. The bruising on her neck had completely disappeared days ago, but she still couldn't help feeling self-conscious about it. Sometimes, she could still feel it there, early in the morning, or when she was exceptionally nervous. "Have I forgotten anything?"

"No," Hermione said without stopping to think, looking her up and down. "You look very put together."

Lavender and Parvati snickered on their half of the room.

"Is there something funny?" Hermione snapped.

Apparently, that had not been the reaction they were expecting. Both girls jumped like they'd been electrocuted. Katelyn nearly jumped herself.

"Sorry," Lavender said sheepishly. "It was just … you two are acting like there's a war on."

"Or a funeral," added Parvati.

"Yes - well - Katelyn is just a little nervous," Hermione said, thinking fast. "She's missed a lot of class."

"Yes, you certainly have," Parvati said to Katelyn. "Are you … er … feeling better?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered carefully. "It was a really mild case."

"My uncle had dragon pox, a few years ago," Parvati said, suddenly very serious. "It was bad. We didn't think he was going to make it for a while. He still has scars."

"Oh … I'm sorry to hear that."

"But he's alright?" asked Hermione, her voice softer now.

"Yes, he's very well now. Thank you. Anyways, I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks. I was really lucky ... It could have been a lot worse."

The four girls hovered in awkward silence for a moment.

"Well," Hermione said stiffly, "We'd best get to breakfast."

"Right," Parvati said.

"See you," called out Lavender as they left.

"They really have been a lot better since you 'fell ill'," Hermione whispered to her once the door was safely shut behind them. "We still don't really talk all that often, but they've been much more pleasant when we do. I can't help thinking Professor McGonagall talked to them."

Katelyn wasn't sure that was a good thing.

Ron was waiting for them in the common room.

"Morning," he said, pushing himself up from his chair. He had that look that Katelyn had begun to recognize. The unspoken question of ' _Are you okay?_ ' was written across his face, plain as parchment.

Katelyn opened her mouth to reassure him, but Hermione beat her to it.

"She's fine, Ron, don't worry. I've already asked her a dozen times just this morning."

Ron snorted, and the worry began to evaporate from his expression.

"Good morning, Ron," Katelyn said, feeling a little better as he began to smile in earnest. "Let's go eat?"

"Hah! You say it like it's a question. Yes, let's!"

Hermione sent Katelyn a good-natured smirk as he hurried off towards the portrait hole.

They were roughly halfway through the lengthy descent from the seventh floor tower when Fred and George caught up to them from behind. Ron and Hermione were close at her shoulders, so instead, they came around to the front and began walking backwards so that they could face her.

"Katelyn!" said the one on the left.

"So good to see you back in action!" said the other.

"Mornin' Fred, George," said Ron, clearly already annoyed by their antics. "You'd better not even think about asking her."

"Asking me what?" Katelyn said warily.

"They've been pestering me all week about dragon pox."

"Madam Pomfrey says they've tried to sneak in to see you three times," Hermione added.  
"She had to spell the doors to keep them out."

"Four times," they chimed.

"But we just wanted to see."

"We've never met anyone who had dragon pox."

"Thought some company might cheer you up a bit too."

"We were wondering if you'd want to change your funeral plans."

Hermione gasped, but Katelyn suddenly remembered their conversation (though it felt like a lifetime ago) and forced herself to act as if nothing was wrong. She could explain later.

"Might not want an open casket, you know," they continued.

"What with all the boils and sores."

She didn't dare look, but she thought she could feel her friends relaxing slightly at her sides.

"Right shame, though. Looks like you've cleared right up."

"Though I can't tell if that's a scar or just a nasty zit on your chin, there."

"Only joking!" they interjected as Katelyn shot Hermione a panicked look.

"It's a relief to see you're already concerned about puberty, however."

"We were afraid we'd have to give you the talk, too."

Ron groaned aloud. They reached a staircase, but the twins continued walking backwards. It was like they had eyes on the backs of their heads. Maybe they'd practised.

"Well, no matter."

"That's actually not why we're here."

"Though we're glad to see you feeling better of course!"

"We just wanted to let you know that Oliver's looking for you."

"Been driving McGonagall absolutely mental, he has."

Katelyn blanched, stopping in her tracks.

"Is … is he mad at me?"

She'd tried not to think about him. She'd tried not to think about a lot of things. The twins exchanged a glance.

"No, he's actually taken it pretty well."

"I'd say he was more worried than anything."

"But if he gives you a hard time, just say the word."

"We'll sort him out for you."

"Oh. Thank you."

"Don't mention it," they said in unison. "See you at practice!"

"Bye … " Katelyn murmured, slightly baffled as they began jogging down the hallway in reverse.

As soon as they disappeared around the corner, Hermione rounded on her.

' _Funeral?!'_ she mouthed, looking deadly serious.

Katelyn blushed furiously.

"We just had a running joke," she blustered, "about me dying on the pitch. You know, what with the cursed broom and everything … One night we got to planning a funeral for me as a gag. They didn't - … they didn't know about anything. I swear."

"Well, that is the sort of thing they would think is funny," Ron conceded reluctantly.

"Were you really joking though?" Hermione asked pointedly, still looking quite serious.

"Could we maybe talk about it later?"

They paused awkwardly as a group of upper-year Ravenclaws passed by, all taking conspicuous glances at the huddled trio.

"Yes, of course," Hermione sighed. "But I still don't think that it's very funny. You really could have gotten hurt at that game."

"I know, I'm sorry … "

"It's not your fault, Katelyn. But you should be careful. It's only a game."

If there was ever a sign that things really had changed, it was that Ron didn't disagree with her, though he looked like he was considering it.

As they approached the doors to the Great Hall, Katelyn felt her pulse speeding up. She swallowed nervously and slowed to a stop right outside.

"You can do this, Katelyn," Ron encouraged. "No one is going to suspect a thing."

She knew that.

"I know," she said.

But she didn't feel like it. It felt like the entire school was about to start booing her, like the first time she walked onto the Quidditch pitch.

"You just have to act natural, Katelyn," said Hermione. "They won't pay you any mind if you just walk in like it's any other day."

She took a moment to appreciate just how lucky she was to have such good friends. She couldn't imagine doing this alone.

"Hermione," she heard herself saying. "Can I have a hug?"

She wasn't answered with words, but with two arms suddenly squeezing her tightly, and a head of bushy hair smushed up against her cheek.

"Oh Katelyn," Hermione murmured into her ear. "It'll all be okay."

It was a long, slightly bone-breaking hug, but it was unbelievable how much better it was making her feel. She wondered how different her life would be if someone had always been there to hug her when she needed it. On second thought - she decided not to think about that. Healer Burch had mentioned how it could be unhealthy to fixate and fantasize about what life with her parents might have been like. Obsessing was rarely healthy, she'd said.

Once they parted, Katelyn saw Ron standing there a bit looking uncomfortable and decided to hug him too. He seemed surprised for a moment, but he hugged her back all the same. He was surprisingly gentle, unlike Hermione, who seemed to have been trying to crush the worry right out of her.

"Okay," she said, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Let's go, sorry."

There was nothing else for it. She forced herself to step forward, and again, and again — until she was inside the Great Hall. What happened next was both the furthest thing from — and yet exactly — what she had expected.

No one really paid her any mind.

A few pairs of eyes turned her way, but their gazes didn't linger for more than a moment. There were a few places she knew better than to look, of course. She was certain that they would do what they liked with her long-awaited return.

Feeling slightly emboldened, she decided to risk a glance at the head table. The headmaster smiled warmly at her, and Professor McGonagall gave her an encouraging nod. Professor Snape made no notice of her existence, staring down at his tea with well-practised disinterest.

She realized that it was the first time she'd seen him since the attempt. He'd obviously never come to visit her - Well, should be obvious, shouldn't it? He saved her life, after all. She didn't have a clue how much that was worth. It was probably too much to hope that he didn't still hate her. Maybe he would hate her even more now. But at least she didn't have to find out until double Potions tomorrow.

There was a gentle nudge at her shoulder. Hermione was coaxing her forward.

"C'mon Katelyn," Ron urged under his breath. "You've got this."

"Oh, right, sorry."

She shook herself, and let Hermione lead the way to the empty end of the table. Strangely, the anxiety she felt decreased as she walked in, down the rows and amongst the other students. Like she was hiding in plain sight, sinking into a sea of faces. They really weren't staring at her.

"See?" Ron said once they were seated. "Not so bad at all."

She couldn't help but give him a nervous smile.

"Yeah … you're right," she said, looking to both of them in turn. "Thanks, to both of you."

She was slightly startled by Hermione taking her hand, and felt herself blushing as she locked eyes with her bushy-haired friend.

"Please, Katelyn. It's what friends are for. I care about y - "

Luckily, at that very moment, Oliver Wood appeared from somewhere down the table, and Katelyn quickly stuck her hand back down to her lap.

"Katelyn! Oh thank Merlin you're back," he said, dropping into the seat across from them. "I've been going spare … McGonagall wouldn't let me in to see you. I told her I didn't care if it was contagious, but she wouldn't budge."

"Yeah, sorry," she said slowly. "It was only a minor case. No scars or anything."

"Good, though you still do look a little green … " Oliver said, scratching his chin. "Err - nevermind that. You can start coming to practice again, yeah?"

She gave another sideways glance to Ron and Hermione. Was she really green? They both shrugged.

"Yes, of course."

Oliver sighed in relief.

"Excellent. We have practice tonight, the usual time."

"Okay, I'll be there."

He made to get up, but he suddenly froze and planted himself right back in the seat. He stared at her for a moment, clearly thinking.

"You uh … you do actually want to come back, right?"

"Wh … what do you mean?"

"I just … I know you've had a rough time this year. I don't think I've ever said, but you're one of the best seekers I've ever seen. If you need time, I'd be alright with you missing another practice or two. I'm just glad you're feeling better."

She had to restrain herself from looking at her friends once more.

"Oh … thank you. That's kind of you to say. But I'm okay, really."

Oliver smiled brightly.

"Great! I'll see you at practice, then."

"See you."

Once he was well out of earshot, Ron leaned in conspiratorially.

"What's gotten into him?" he asked. "My brothers always tell me he's mental about not missing practice."

"You don't think he knows, do you?"

"He couldn't possibly," said Hermione. "But that does seem … a bit unlike him. Maybe he's just remembering the last time you got hurt. I'd be glad to see that someone is taking it seriously."

"I guess, yeah. Maybe."

Now that Oliver was gone, she nearly wished she'd taken him up on the offer. Maybe it would be good to get it over with, but that wouldn't stop her from dreading her reunion with the chasers for the rest of the day.

"Katelyn … "

She snapped out of her thoughts to see Hermione watching her. Her bushy-haired friend took a deliberate glance at Katelyn's still-empty plate.

"Oh, right. Sorry."

It was still a struggle, but knowing that she may never have to see the Dursleys again had done incredible things for her appetite. Healer Burch had been working closely with her to 'establish a healthy relationship with food' and to help her overcome her 'internalized association of food with punishment'. Some days she couldn't bear to do more than peck at some rice and drink a glass of water. Sometimes she just forgot to eat altogether and had to be reminded. It was seldom easy, but it was getting better every day.

It was with this in mind that she allowed Ron to pile some eggs and sausage onto her plate, feeling an amazing freedom in the simple possibility that she might be able to finish it all. She didn't notice that both of her friends could barely contain their smiles as she began picking away.

Their first class of the day was Transfiguration, with the Hufflepuffs. Walking through the door into the classroom felt like stepping onto the surface of another world, despite that nothing had changed. Well, some things had changed.

"Good morning, everyone," said McGonagall as they unpacked their things and settled in. "I will collect your assignments if you'd please place them on your desks."

Katelyn's first lesson couldn't have possibly started better. The smile she received from her head of house, as she took her own parchment out of her bookbag and placed it before her, was worth more than gold.

"Ah," McGonagall said to the class. "Some of you may already know, but I suppose it bears mention that Miss Potter is rejoining us after a mild bout of dragon pox. Please refrain from pestering her with questions. I assure you, she is not contagious."

As a small miracle in and of itself, no one so much as groaned at the mention of Katelyn's name. With a smooth, precise flick of McGonagall's wand, their essays all sailed up into the air and landed in a tidy pile on her desk.

"Now, let's pick up right where we left off last time. Wands out, everyone."

The lesson itself was a very nice way to ease into the day's classes. The Hufflepuffs tended to ignore her, and McGonagall was very patient with Katelyn as she tried to get back up to speed. They spent the period trying to change the colour of water, from clear to purple, and back again. With Hermione's help from the previous evening, she managed a very successful transfiguration to magenta, but then it would start turning red. She just couldn't work out purple.

"Very good, Miss Potter," McGonagall said as she made the rounds. "Perhaps try for green and work forwards from there."

"But shouldn't it be blue, professor?" chirped Hermione, who had already successfully completed the transfiguration twice over. "To mix with red to create purple?"

"A good assumption, Miss Granger, but the problem is too much yellow mixing with her initial shade of magenta. Achieving a nice green is the first step towards cyan, and thus purple when mixed in correct proportion."

Hermione, suddenly wide-eyed, began frantically scribbling in her notes, while Ron sighed in frustration as his water merely began to fizzle for the third time.

"You must remain calm, Weasley!" their head of house remonstrated, before bustling away to help a pair of Hufflepuffs on the other side of the room whose water had begun to smoke.

Katelyn gave him a sympathetic look.

"At least you aren't them," she said under her breath, watching in mild awe as the smoke spewing from their dish began to turn orange, and McGonagall put her head into her hand in disappointment.

Ron took a look at the spectacle unfolding before them, and he nodded his agreement.

"You're right," he said, his pout giving way to an earnest smile. "Thanks."

They redoubled their efforts, and before the end of the period, both managed to get their water to turn purple. Ron couldn't get it to turn back for the life of him, but even he begrudgingly agreed that it was great progress.

"Miss Potter, stay after class for a moment, won't you?" McGonagall called out to her as the bell rang.

"Of course, Professor," she said automatically. She couldn't help looking to Hermione and Ron, though she hoped it wasn't anything serious.

"We'll wait for you," Hermione said, and Ron nodded.

"You don't have to."

They both gave her a look that clearly said she wouldn't be getting rid of them if she tried.

"Okay, okay. I'm sure it won't be long."

"I assure you," said McGonagall from her desk, "that you will have your friend returned to you in one piece."

With that, Katelyn gave them a last wave, and slowly wound her way through the room towards the professor's desk.

"Exemplary work today, Katelyn," McGonagall said, her voice much softer now that they were alone. "You've been making a clear effort to catch up, and it shows. I took a quick look at your essay and I must say that I'm quite impressed."

Katelyn couldn't help blushing, remembering how her professor had smiled at seeing that she had it ready.

"Thank you, Professor. I couldn't have done it without Hermione and Ron."

"And your own effort. It's well-deserved praise, dear. Now … how are you feeling? Has anyone been giving you trouble?"

Katelyn refrained from mentioning that her day had only just started.

"No, professor. I'm fine."

"If I had a galleon for every time you've told me that you were fine, Potter … "

"Sorry. I … I'm a little nervous still, I suppose. But I really do feel better. No one's been bothering me."

McGonagall studied her for a moment, before deciding to take her word for it.

"But I trust that you will let me know should any problems arise?"

"I … sure. Of course."

"Because if I found out that another of my lions has been harassing you, and you haven't deemed it worthy of mention, you'd best believe that I will be just as furious with you as I will with them. I will not stand for you being mistreated any longer. You deserve to feel at home at Hogwarts. You deserve to feel safe, and loved."

Katelyn felt the sudden prickle of a tear forming in the corner of her eye, and clumsily brushed at it with her sleeve.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"It's nothing but the truth. Now, will you promise me that you'll report to me if anyone is acting poorly towards you?"

"O-okay," she mumbled. "I will. I promise."

"I truly am sorry, child. Mark my words, things will change around her if I have any say about it. Now, chin up. You have a class to get to, I'm sure."

"Yes, ma'am."

Katelyn paused as a stray thought occurred to her.

"Oh … before I go, are you talking with Professor Dumbledore yet?"

McGonagall made a hmph of laughter. She hadn't been on speaking terms with the headmaster since the truth had come out. It had made the last few mornings, as Katelyn waited to leave for her appointments, very awkward (though it had often been rather funny, too).

"Well, I suppose tormenting him must cease to entertain me at some point," McGonagall relented, smiling to herself. "But I may drag it out just a bit longer, if you don't mind. I do derive a certain pleasure from turning the old codger's screws every now and again."

Katelyn' couldn't help smile. If there was one thing her head of house was good at, it was being angry. Especially since Katelyn had yet to muster up her own anger towards the headmaster.

"I don't mind, I suppose."

"Excellent. I'd thought at dinner I might ' _accidentally'_ knock his goblet of mead into his lap and I've been looking forward to it all day. Off you go now."

"Goodbye, professor. And … thanks."

"You're very welcome, dear."

"So?" asked Ron once Katelyn joined them in the hallway.

"It was nothing. She just wanted to make sure that no one was bothering me."

"Well, I wouldn't say that's nothing, Katelyn," said Hermione. "It is important that you get help if you need it. You aren't in this alone. Not anymore."

"I know, I know. Thanks. She also said that my essay looked good."

"I told you!" Hermione said proudly. "You should believe me next time. I know a quality essay when I see one."

"If only you'd ever look at mine in the first place," grumbled Ron.

"Well, there's not much to look at when you only write an inch before you start pestering me for help!"

Being stood in the middle, it was Katelyn's duty to playfully bat Ron on the arm, and she gladly (albeit very carefully) obliged.

Their next lesson was Charms with the Ravenclaws. They didn't like her much, but she could never tell if it was because of her marks, or because no one else did.

"At least they're usually too snooty to actually say anything," Ron remarked under his breath as they marched to the classroom.

Flitwick eagerly came to greet her as the rest of the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were settling in.

"Ah! So good to see you back, Miss Potter! Are you feeling well?"

She could remember with startling clarity, meeting him while under McGonagall's disillusionment charm. It still hurt, thinking of him looking so sad, telling her how glad he was that she was still alive. She'd never known that he even thought her a good student until he'd said it aloud that day.

"Yes professor, I feel really well. Maybe not … not perfect, but well. It means a lot to me, thank you."

"Of course, Miss Potter. If there's ever anything you need, my door is open."

"Y-yes sir," she said. "Thank you."

She hoped that not all of the professors were going to be so kind. The attention was a little unnerving now that she was out of the hospital wing. Hermione, however, seemed very pleased to see Flitwick looking after her health.

The day's lesson was surprisingly enjoyable. They were learning sticking charms, so Flitwick held a competition to see whose charm could hold their textbook to the ceiling for the longest. Hermione won, of course, but not for some close competition from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor alike. Afterwards, they made their way down to lunch in high spirits.

"No, Ron," Hermione was explaining passionately. "Electricity is _conducted_ through metal. The plug just connects the contacts to the metal wiring inside the wall outlet."

Ron groaned loudly, clearly regretting his off-handed comment about toasters.

"Alright, but if it's metal, where does the ee-lek-tricity go? Is a plug hollow in the middle?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to groan. Katelyn, however, was having a wonderful time, and was completely content to let her friend's good-natured bickering continue without her intervention.

They were sat at the Gryffindor table, Hermione five minutes into an ambitious attempt to explain the concept of atoms to an utterly baffled Ron, when they were interrupted by a dark shadow looming over their shoulders.

Katelyn turned to see Draco standing behind them, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle as usual.

"Back so soon Potter?" Draco said, an eyebrow raised smugly. "I thought I smelled something off at breakfast this morning. You know, I've really come to enjoy lessons without your unbearable presence fouling up the place." He had his nose scrunched up as if it was her smell in particular that he was referring to.

"But you came all the way over here to talk to me."

His eyes widened ever so slightly, but instead of responding to it he just ploughed on.

"You know, my father said that dragon pox is transmitted -"

"Oh just shut up, Malfoy!" said Ron, making as if to get out of his seat. "Go bother someone who cares!"

Katelyn and Hermione both grabbed an arm to restrain him. Malfoy smirked as Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles menacingly.

"You should watch your tone, Weasley. I would hate to see you doing another week's worth of detentions, or worse. Well, I'd love it, actually. Maybe - "

"Mr Malfoy, is there a problem?"

The cold, hard voice of Minerva McGonagall froze Malfoy's words in midair.

"No, professor … I was … just looking after Po - after _Katelyn's_ health," he said, quickly recovering his pompous air.

McGonagall's eyes narrowed.

"How kind. However, I can personally assure you that Katelyn is perfectly well. And now that the matter is settled, I don't suppose you need my assistance finding your way back to your own table?"

"That won't be necessary, professor," Draco said, tinging just slightly pink as he scurried away with his friends lumbering after him.

"Thank you, professor," Katelyn said, feeling increasingly self-conscious as a good number of eyes turned their way.

"Don't mention it, Miss Potter. Do remember my earlier words to you."

"Yes, professor."

And with that, McGonagall returned towards the head table, as if nothing noteworthy had happened at all.

"Wow," Hermione said, clearly pleased by the turn of events. "They really are looking out for you."

Though Katelyn wasn't as happy about the many wandering gazes brought on by the commotion, she couldn't deny that it was far better than having to endure Draco's insults.

"Yeah. That was nice of her," she reluctantly agreed. "But you really can't get any more detentions, Ron. I like having you around too much."

The rest of the day's classes, though mercifully uneventful, also passed far, far too quickly. Katelyn had tried to put practice out of her mind throughout the day, but despite her efforts, it felt like just moments before she was sat at dinner, endlessly stirring her noodles as she dreaded another evening of feeling useless and unwelcome. That particular aspect of her life had changed desperately little.

"Hermione, I'll be fine," she said, sensing that her friend was on the verge of offering her yet more encouragement and reassurance. "I'm just nervous."

Of course, she doubted she would be fine, but there was nothing for she could do. It's not like it would get any better if she missed even more practice. She did have some coping techniques, thanks to her many meetings with Healer Burch.

"But thanks, really."

She sent Hermione and Ron a grateful smile, reminding herself to be appreciative of the good friends she had.

* * *

The trip down to the pitch felt awfully familiar. Nothing but a bottomless pit of dread eating away at her, trying to swallow her up despite her attempts to stay grounded. Focusing on her breathing. Pinching her fingers to stay present. Reminding herself that she wasn't alone anymore. She didn't bother telling herself that it was just another practice.

She entered the locker room as quietly as she could. She only made it as far as getting changed before an all-too-familiar voice was ringing in her ears.

"Good of you to finally show your face around here, Potter. Back from your vacation?"

Katelyn told herself that she shouldn't be surprised, but for just a moment she had hoped that somehow, things would have changed in the two long weeks that she'd been away. But they hadn't. She wished that the taunting didn't hurt. But it did.

"I'm really sorry," she said, though perhaps not to Alicia in particular. "I was sick."

"Sorry doesn't make up for the two weeks worth of practices you've missed, Potter. You think you're so bloody special don't you?"

She nearly forgot that Oliver and the Weasley twins were in the room as Alicia stepped closer, and closer, stopping just inches from Katelyn's face. Maybe Alicia had, too. She looked like she might start foaming at the mouth at any second.

"Lay off, Alicia," Oliver said warningly.

"What? You're just gonna let the little princess do whatever she wants? Just because she nearly swallowed the snitch in one -"

"Alicia," he growled. "Stop. Now.""

"Of course you want to protect your little pet. Sorry that I just want everyone to hold up their own end! Damned if I want anyone to be treated fairly, huh?! "

"Go," Oliver said, deathly quiet. "Just go."

And so with one last cry of frustration, she stormed out of the room.

"Alicia!" called out Angelina, before groaning loudly and chasing her friend out of the tent.

To her own horror, Katelyn found herself beginning to cry as the sound of stomping footfalls faded. She had never cried in front of the team before, no matter how bad things got.

She thought she would be stronger. She thought she would be ready for the inevitable, and it just made it hurt worse. Fred and George went to stand beside her, as if to protect her.

"I'm f-fine," she sniffled miserably, trying to hide behind her hands. "It's fine …"

One of the twins reached out a hand to touch her shoulder -

"Don't!" she said, jerking away in spite of herself.

"S-sorry, I - "

The locker room was deathly silent as Katelyn slumped down onto a bench and tried to get herself under control. Healer Burch had told her that sometimes crying can be cathartic. This was not one of those times. It felt like an hour had passed before she finally got a hold of herself.

"I'm - I'm really sorry," she said to no one, avoiding a room full of eyes. "I'm fine."

Katie Bell, who had been watching in silence so far, took a timid step forward.

"I'm uh ... sorry about her," she said uncomfortably. "You know … you're not really all that bad. You're a good seeker."

"Thanks," she said through teary eyes, though it was hardly an apology, and she felt no better for it.

"Katelyn," Oliver said in that same guilty tone he had when the crowd had booed her on the pitch. "You know what she said isn't true. I don't know what's gotten into her now, but I promise I'll talk to her before the next practice. Okay? This stops now."

She nodded.

"Y-yeah, okay. Sorry … "

"You've nothing to be sorry for. It's not like you planned to get sick. She was way out of order."

Katelyn couldn't help a nervous swallow.

"Right."

It ended up being a short practice, with Oliver deciding to call it a night early. Though the game against Hufflepuff was drawing closer every day, there weren't many drills that they could practice with two out of three chasers gone. Katelyn tried to fill in, but she was dreadful with the quaffle, so her efforts were as much a hindrance as a help. Katie was decent to her, however, which helped a lot with the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"I heard Hufflepuff was looking for a new chaser," she'd quipped after Katelyn fumbled an embarrassingly easy pass. But it had been with the tone of friendly banter, not the acidic insults that Alicia usually seemed to delight in dreaming up.

Once Katelyn had changed out of her uniform(and received another pep talk from Oliver) she left the lockers to find the Weasley twins waiting for her outside.

"Hey, Katelyn," they said in unison.

"Hi."

"We're really sorry," said Fred (probably).

"We should have stepped in," said George (she hoped).

"Still not great at this sticking up for people business, as you can see."

"No, it's okay. I'm sure you would have done if Oliver hadn't."

"Are you alright?"

"We're here if you want to talk."

"Yes, I'm fine," Katelyn said. "You don't have to apologize. I'm … I'm actually getting a bit tired of people apologizing to me lately."

"Well,"

"If you say so."

"Would you let us walk you up to the tower?"

"It's the least we can do."

"Yeah. That'd be nice … hey, can I - no, actually, nevermind."

"Please, do ask whatever's on your mind."

"We'd be overjoyed to indulge the whimsy of our favourite Gryffindor princess."

"No, it's … it's stupid."

"Stupid would be expecting us not to embarrass you relentlessly,"

"If you don't spit it out."

"No thought is too stupid for these humble ears!"

"Alright, alright … just promise you won't laugh at me."

"Promise," they said in chorus.

"How do I tell you apart?"

They both laughed.

"You promised!" she pouted, though even she knew it had been a naive request.

"But we're laughing _with_ you," they said together.

"And we are about to reveal our most treasured secret, after all."

"So hopefully you can forgive us."

" … yeah. I suppose. So will you tell me?"

"I'm Fred," said Fred. "I've got a bit of a scar on my eyebrow here, see?"

"Oh! Okay, I've never noticed that."

"And I'm George, and I have the exact same scar, see?"

"What?"

"Only joking!" they chorused as Katelyn's shoulders began to slump in confusion.

"I have these moles on my neck, here, see?" said George.

She looked, and there were indeed two prominent moles on his neck. So, apparently, a small scar and two moles were the only things separating the two redheads.

"Okay. Great," she said, still slightly suspicious that she was being tricked.

"Remember, the ability to distinguish one Weasley twin from another is a rare privilege."

"A privilege, and a responsibility."

"You'd do best to hold that card close to your chest."

"Remember, we're placing our trust in you now."

She nodded along, getting a strange feeling that they weren't joking about it.

Once they returned to the castle, she parted ways with the twins to swipe a roll from the Great Hall. It was a habit she'd formed in the last weeks leading up to her attempt, because pretending that she planned to eat a small piece of bread after practice did wonders keeping Hermione from worrying over her. Now though, she thought that she might actually eat it instead of hiding it under her bed.

Her bushy-haired friend was already dressed, and ready for bed when Katelyn finally came up to the dorm.

"So, Katelyn?" said Hermione gingerly, perched on the end of her four-poster. "You're back rather early. How did it go?"

"It went alright. Alicia … well, she flew off the handle a little, but Oliver stood up for me and then she stormed off."

"Oh, that's horrible, Katelyn. I'm sorry that she's still being cruel. "

"I didn't expect anything to change, really. And the twins and Oliver have both been really good to me. Katie Bell was almost nice to me, even."

"Would you like me to talk to Professor McGonagall for you?"

"No. Oliver said he was going to handle it."

"Do you believe he will?"

"Yes. I think so. He was really angry with her."

She sighed, sitting back against her pillows.

"For my first day back - for what I was expecting … I can't believe it went so well."

"That's how things should always be, Katelyn."

"Miranda said that too."

"Miranda?"

"Oh, sorry. Healer Burch. She said that I accept things too easily. Maybe she's right."

She thought for a moment, about her day. About how she had two good friends by her side as she soldiered through her classes. How McGonagall intervened at lunch, and how Oliver stood up for her too. Only a few short weeks ago, she wouldn't have believed it ever happened, let alone told herself that it's how things _should be_.

But she supposed lots of things had changed since that night. Maybe that could change too.


	15. Chapter 15

Katelyn's second day of class began at four in the morning. She was still having frequent nightmares (and Healer Burch said she might continue to have them for a long time), but this morning she was simply too anxious to go back to sleep. So instead she was sat up against the pillows in her four-poster, trying to study.

Today was double Potions. It had been easy to put out of her mind yesterday, what with so many other things to worry about, but now she couldn't think of anything but. Maybe Snape would ignore her. Maybe he would be extra cruel, and let Draco and Pansy torment her without lifting a finger. She tried to imagine him being … nice … to her, and not only did it seem impossible, but she couldn't even picture what it would look like.

She forced herself to focus back on her Potions text. Thanks to Hermione, she had a spotless essay on identifying toads commonly used in potion making. However, there were rumours floating about that in class they were to be quizzed on it as well. So she was still studying, even though it was beginning to feel like she was forgetting more than she was remembering.

There were easy ones, like yellow-bellied or golden toads, but the common varieties all looked like the exact same lump of grey and brown. Her textbook had illustrations, but she'd been at it for so long that the toads started getting ornery and jumping off to other pages.

She was feeling increasingly anxious as she finished paging through the book in search of a stray natterjack for the second time without success. Her legs were growing restless, and it was becoming unbearably hot and stuffy within the curtains of her four-poster.

Snape kept creeping back into her mind - leering at her, judging her. She could hear the echoes of Pansy's taunting but couldn't make out the words as they bounced around her brain. She finally put the book aside and slumped back down into her pillows but the noises in her head only grew louder.

" _So incompetent, Potter,"_ said the voice of imaginary Snape _._ She could practically feel his scowl as he spoke in his signature drawl, _"Couldn't even manage to off yourself properly."_

Not a minute later, she'd quietly slipped out of bed and was quietly, carefully prying open the portrait hole. She knew it was probably a bad idea - but she just needed to get up and move around. There were too many thoughts in her head, there was no chance of going back to sleep. She left a note for Hermione, explaining that she would be back in an hour or two, just in case.

Once she stepped out of the common room and into the cool night air of the castle, it felt like she could finally breathe. Enveloped in the silky folds of her cloak, she carefully travelled the halls of the castle. She savoured the quiet thrill of sneaking about after curfew. The cool air. The walls of sleeping portraits, unaware of her presence as she slipped by.

The minutes passed by, and before long her nighttime stroll had led her to the trophy room as they often did. She couldn't always find it - the doorway seemed to drift between the third and sixth floors on a whim - but she stopped by whenever she got the chance.

There were, naturally, quite a few trophies, medals, awards and all sorts of glittery, shiny things in the room, but what drew her back time and time again was a modest plaque commemorating "Hogwarts Class of 1978". Atop a humble list of prefects, in bold lettering, read: " _Head Boy: James Potter. Head Girl: Lily Evans"._

The first time she'd seen it, long before she discovered the mirror at Christmas, she'd nearly fallen over of shock. It was odd coming back now, after everything that had happened since the attempt. Despite it all, seeing something that proved her parents really existed, and had really gone to Hogwarts, walking the same halls and breathing the same air, and even sleeping in the same dormitory - well, that made her feel just a little bit better, no matter how bad a day she was having.

She spent a long time there, stood in front of the plaque, thinking about what her parents would be thinking if they could see her now. Though she hoped in the back of their head that they would appreciate the gesture of her suicide attempt, the more time she spent in therapy the more she felt like they would be disappointed with her. She hated feeling like she was letting them down, like she often felt when she wasn't flying well in practice, or getting good marks in classes.

Maybe they would forgive her. She supposed she could write another letter and apologize. For a moment, she even considered asking Hermione to help her write it. But no, no, that would be terribly strange, and embarrassing to boot.

As she exited the trophy room, she was surprised to see Ms Norris sat in front of the door, as if the cat had been waiting for her.

"Oh, hello there," she said fondly, stooping down. "I haven't seen you in a while, have I?"

Let the cloak fall from around her shoulders, so that she could reach out to pet her feline friend. Only -

"Potter," hissed the voice of none other than Severus Snape, dangerously close behind her.

Katelyn's heart leapt out of her chest. She sprang to her feet, just barely managing to restrain her squeal of horror. She froze, not daring to turn around and face him as her face flushed with shame. What was he doing here? Had Miss Norris led him to her?

She'd never been caught out past curfew before - she was usually so careful. The only exception was over Christmas when Dumbledore had found her with the mirror. She didn't think for an instant that she would get off so easily this time.

"Come with me," Snape said sharply.

There was nothing else for it. She knew she couldn't talk herself out of it even if she could bring herself to speak.

Katelyn gathered the cloak up in her arms and fell in step beside him, her eyes locked to the floor all the while. She didn't glance up for even a moment as they began walking, staring at her own feet as she took step after agonizing step. She didn't know where they were going. But she could _feel_ his dark, ominous presence radiating beside her, making her shiver despite feeling incredibly, suffocatingly warm.

Not long ago, she would have expected him to say something cruel, or perhaps rejoice in having caught her out. Now, it felt like he was so seething with such anger that he couldn't speak. What she wouldn't give for this to be just another nightmare.

She was roused from her shameful stupor as she realized that they were not descending into the dungeon, but towards the entrance hall. Her stomach began to churn as she recognized that they were heading back to the first floor. Somehow, the thought of him turning her over to McGonagall almost seemed like a worse fate than whatever detentions he might have dreamt up.

They reached her office, and Snape rapped his knuckles on the door twice. A long, heavy moment passed in the stillest of silence before a slight rustling could be heard beyond the door, and a loud clack as it was pulled open.

"Severus? Potter? What on earth is going on?" McGonagall asked tensely.

"I found her exiting the trophy room," he said plainly.

"Katelyn! What in Merlin's name are you doing out of the dormitory after curfew?!"

Katelyn's breath caught in her throat as she realized just how colossally stupid she had been. She couldn't bring herself to explain. In hindsight, even she couldn't see why she'd thought it was a good idea.

"Well, Miss Potter?"

"I … I couldn't sleep - I just needed - " She had to stop to allow a nervous swallow. "I needed to get some air … "

Bloody - … she was crying again. She tried to take a deep breath, but her lungs shuddered wretchedly, making her seem all the more pathetic.

"Why on earth wouldn't you simply come to me if you needed help? This is what I have been trying to - what _we_ have been trying to get you to understand. We are here to help you, Miss Potter. Now, why were you unable to sleep?"

"I d-don't want to talk about that right now - can - can I tell you later, please?" she pleaded, feeling Snape's gaze boring into her back.

McGonagall let out a long-suffering sigh.

"Yes, of course. Why don't you come to my office and we can have some tea, then? Severus, I believe I can handle matters from here, unless there's anything else I should know?"

"That will be all, Minerva. Good evening - or good morning, rather."

"Indeed. Thank you for bringing her to me."

Katelyn followed McGonagall into her office and took the proffered armchair across the desk.

"Miss Potter," McGonagall said gravely. "I hope I do not need to explain how serious a matter this is. After all of what you've been through. After all _we_ have been through— to do something so dangerous and reckless. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Katelyn felt crushed at hearing the disappointment clear in her voice.

"I … wasn't thinking. It was wrong, I'm sorry. I'm not … I'm not used to anyone caring."

"But that is the entire point of what we have been doing, Potter! To make you — no, to _help you_ understand that you are cared for. That you do matter. And besides that, even before now, you could have been in serious trouble for wandering about after curfew. What if you had been hurt?"

"Well, it didn't really matter before if I got hurt before. I guess now … I was just used to it."

"You mean that you've been out past curfew before?!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry … " she whimpered, wincing at McGonagall's raised voice. She forced her arms to stay planted in her lap rather than let them fly upwards to shield her face. She knew her professor would never.

"I apologize," McGonagall sighed. "I don't mean to frighten you, child, but this is a very serious matter. We have a curfew in place for good reason."

"I know … I won't do it again - are - do you really want me to wake you up if I can't sleep?"

"If the alternative is you wandering the castle at night and plummeting through a trapdoor to your demise by mistake, then yes. I would rather lose a wink or two of sleep than lose you, dear."

"O-oh. Okay, I will, then."

"Very good."

McGonagall drew her wand and conjured a tea set. They were both silent a moment as they took their cups and sipped.

"Now please, dear," McGonagall said, setting down her saucer. "Whatever is the matter? Why were you out of bed?"

Katelyn took a deep breath of air into her lungs.

"I was nervous about going back to Professor Snape's class and I couldn't get back to sleep so I thought that going for a walk would help - "

"Nervous about class with the Slytherins? I believe I made it perfectly clear that I would not tolerate any further bullying, regardless of house."

"No - it's … it's not them … "

"What then? Professor Snape?"

Katelyn nodded.

"He … he was the one who … you know … f-found me."

McGonagall's expression changed instantly, any trace of frustration vanishing as she realized what Katelyn meant.

"Oh, goodness, dear, I'm terribly sorry," she sighed. "I admit, that hadn't occurred to me … I'm sure that he will treat the matter with the utmost discretion. In fact, I think he would be most displeased if word got out that he'd done so much as lifted a finger for one of my Lions. However, I can speak to him if you wish."

"No, it's okay, professor … I'm just … I don't know what to do."

"Well, I believe I know Severus better than most and - mind you I'm saying this only in the strictest confidence - I don't think I've seen him so upset about something in a long time. He doesn't show it, mind you, but the signs are there if you know what to look for."

"What do you mean?"

"Well … I think he feels as terrible about what happened as any of us."

"Oh."

Katelyn wasn't sure what to make of that. It wasn't that long ago that it seemed like he was outright trying to kill her. But he had the chance, that night, and he didn't take it. Nobody would have ever known if he let her die down in that dungeon. And instead, he'd saved her. Pomfrey hadn't given her many details, but she'd made it sound like Snape had put quite a lot of effort into it, in fact.

So, if he really did save her, why did he act like he hated her so much?

"You don't think he'll be mad at me?"

"Well, for what happened that night, no. But tonight, however, I believe he'd be quite displeased to find that you had got off without punishment. So let's have ten points from Gryffindor, then, shall we?"

"Yes ma'am," Katelyn agreed, not bothered about points in the least.

"Well, Potter," McGonagall said, pushing herself up from her desk, "there's still another two hours before morning, and I see no sense in letting them go to waste. I'll escort you back to your dormitory, lest you get any funny ideas."

"Yes, professor."

The walk back to the dormitory dragged on for ages, as the lack of sleep finally began catching up and her mind and body both started to feel heavier, and heavier, like the dread she felt for dawn was settling itself upon her shoulders.

"Don't be too hard on yourself dear," McGonagall said as they finally reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. "The point of making mistakes is so that one may learn from them."

It felt like the only thing that she'd learned was that she was an utter moron.

"Late evening, Minerva?" asked the Fat Lady, who was wide awake, as if she'd been warned of their impending arrival.

"Just returning Miss Potter to her dormitory after she was found out after curfew. I don't suppose you'd know anything about that, would you?"

"Terribly sorry, Minerva, dear, but I must have been dozing," the Fat Lady said easily.

"How convenient."

Minerva turned to Katelyn and gave her another stern look.

"Well, Miss Potter. I think I've made myself quite clear. You're to see me if you need anything at all. I will not be so lenient the next time I find out you've been breaking rules, no matter the reason. The only time you are excused to be out after curfew is if you are reporting directly to my office, even if it's at three in the morning. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am. I am really sorry."

McGonagall sighed.

"Apology accepted, dear. Now, off to bed with you."

Before the portrait hole swung open, the Fat Lady gave Katelyn a meaningful look, with a raised eyebrow and a half smile. ' _I told you so.'_

She turned to apologize once more, but McGonagall was already heading back downstairs to her office. Her heart sank just a little bit more as it occurred to her how much of a bother she was for her head of house. Not just tonight, but for the last two weeks, Minerva McGonagall had gone out of her way to make herself available, visiting her at least once a night, even when she didn't have an appointment. Breaking the rules seemed like a pretty lousy way to repay her.

The moment Katelyn stepped through the portrait hole, she was assaulted by a head of bushy hair and a pair of arms wrapping around her and pulling her into a vicious hug.

"Katelyn!" cried Hermione, nearly squeezing the life out of her. "Oh don't you do that to me ever again!"

She heard Hermione sniffle into her shoulder.

"I was so worried," she said. "I thought I was going to go spare waiting for you to get back … I was just about to go wake Professor McGonagall."

When she released her a moment later, she saw that Hermione looked teary-eyed, and slightly cross.

"I'm really sorry … I was just too nervous to go back to sleep," Katelyn murmured sheepishly. "I left you a note."

"Yes, you did leave a note, Katelyn," Hermione said, clearly trying to stay calm as she brandished the bit of parchment, "… but do you remember the last time I found a note on your bed?"

Katelyn felt a lead weight drop into her stomach. Her 'goodbye' note.

"Oh … " she breathed. "I … I didn't think of that. I didn't want to wake you … I'm so sorry."

Hermione shook her head, and gave Katelyn another brief hug.

"It's okay … it's okay," she said, stepping back and hugging her arms to herself. "But you really did scare me. I thought … " A strained hiccup of nervous laughter escaped her lips. "I feel awful for thinking it, but for just a moment, when I saw your bed was empty - and the note there … I thought you'd just been fooling us all … that you'd been faking it all along, and you were just biding your time until you got the chance to make another attempt."

A tear tracked down her friend's cheek. Katelyn realized she'd never felt more awful. Sure, awful, terrible things had happened to her, but this … she was the one hurting someone, not the other way around. And it felt vile.

"I know it's horrible to say … but … it really felt like I was back there, for just a moment."

"I'm really sorry Hermione. I - I wouldn't - … I swear I won't - "

"No, it's okay … honest. Just, please, don't wander off on me like that anymore."

"I won't. I promise."

Hermione hugged her once more, but even that didn't make the dreadful feeling of guilt in the pit of her stomach go away.

"Let's go back to sleep, shall we?" Hermione said.

"Yes, please."

* * *

As soon as they crept back up the stairs to the dorm, Katelyn pulled open her curtains, flopped onto her mattress, and buried her head under her pillow. She wanted nothing more than to disappear, to sink into her mattress so the shame would drown with her.

It felt like morning came only moments later, after a few fitful bouts of sleep wedged between half-fledged nightmares and lots of tossing and turning. Katelyn and Hermione didn't say anything to each other about the events of the night, as if they'd both made an unspoken pact. They met Ron in the common room, and went down to breakfast as if it was any other morning, though they all probably knew that they were still a long ways off from having a day that was truly normal.

As they ate (or at least _tried_ to eat), Katelyn couldn't ignore how tired Hermione looked, and it only made her feel worse. Ron looked like he was on the verge of asking what was wrong for the entirety of the morning, though it was incredibly endearing that he was restraining himself.

"So, er, Potions, next, eh?" he finally said.

"Y … yes," Hermione said, stifling a yawn with her hand. "I'm sure it'll be just like any other lesson."

"Well, it shouldn't be. Surely Snape must know at least something about what's happened. He wouldn't keep being a git to you in his own class if he knew, would he?"

"Oh, that's a good point. Katelyn, Professor McGonagall mentioned some of the other teachers were told about it, weren't they?"

"Er - … yeah. He knows about it."

Ron grimaced, and she had to agree with him.

"Can't be a good feeling that _he_ knows, of all people."

Katelyn shrugged. After the events of last night, she'd just be glad if he didn't try to chop her up for ingredients for ruining his sleep.

"As long as he doesn't get any worse," she said, hoping to let the matter rest.

"Well, if he does, we're going to talk to McGonagall," Hermione said resolutely. "In fact, even if he isn't worse, and he's just the usual amount of cruel, we're going to talk to her. I think we kept silent on it for too long."

Ron nodded in solemn agreement.

"It wasn't really that bad."

"Of course it was, Katelyn, even if you didn't quite recognize it at the time. Even when I … er … wasn't fond of you, I could tell he was being unfair on his best of days."

"Fred and George always said he was horrible," Ron added as he chewed. "But at least they probably deserve it half the time. You've never done anything to him."

"Things have got to change, Katelyn," Hermione said pointedly. "In fact, I think plenty has changed already. I don't think any of us are quite the same person we were before you-know-what happened. So I don't see why Potions needs to keep being miserable either."

Katelyn couldn't bring herself to disagree.

* * *

The descent into the dungeons was always marked by a slow drop in temperature, as the sun gave way to torchlight, and the cheerful hum of the castle became a low, cavernous rumble that could be felt more than heard. The soft chatter of the other Gryffindors travelling towards the classroom took on a more ominous tone as it echoed off the damp corridors of loosely packed stone.

"So, how about those toads, eh?" Ron muttered.

Dean and Seamus, walking several steps ahead of them all, both groaned in agreement.

"If I never have to see another one again it'll be too soon," Seamus quipped.

"Do you reckon you've studied enough?" asked Dean.

Katelyn didn't get involved in the impromptu review session that followed as they finished their trek, but she tried to focus on the conversation anyway, if only to help forget her guilt for a little while.

The first thing Katelyn noticed as she shuffled into the dimly lit potions classroom was Snape, hunched over his desk, vigorously scrawling upon a scroll of parchment. She tried to imagine that his tense shoulders weren't a direct result of her interfering with his late-night rounds, but it wasn't particularly successful.

He glanced up very suddenly, and they locked eyes for just a brief moment - Katelyn froze in place. She was instantly back in the abandoned classroom, staring up into those same deep, black irises as she regained consciousness, already sobbing uncontrollably - there was a gentle nudge against her arm as Hermione's hand brushed against her snapped her back to reality - Katelyn frantically averted her gaze and scurried to her desk. The room was suddenly very warm as she hastily unpacked her things, trying to ignore the faint yet dreadful prickling across her neck.

It still happened sometimes, that certain things would trigger her memory, and she would feel the rope tickling her neck. The sensation never failed to make her shudder. She saw Ron give her one of those looks from across at his desk with Neville, and sent him a quick, nervous smile to reassure him.

" _You're sure you're alright?"_ mouthed Hermione once they sat down.

Before she could answer, the door swung shut with a loud clack.

"It is time we begin," Snape said flatly, placing his wand back on the desk. "Turn in your parchments."

Gryffindor and Slytherin alike began to slowly crowd towards the front of the room in one of Snape's preferred rituals, forming an orderly queue to hand in their assignments. Ron was of the belief that he didn't use magic to collect them simply because he enjoyed having the power to make them do it themselves. Katelyn didn't see any flaw in his theory.

"I'm fine, Hermione," she whispered, as Draco began loudly bragging about his essay at the back of the line. "Just a little nervous, is all."

Her bushy-haired friend squeezed her hand.

"Okay, but just say the word if you need anything."

"Hey Potter!" hissed Pansy Parkinson. "Did it make it easier or harder that they're all as good as looking in a mirror for you?"

Katelyn and Hermione shared a look of annoyance. One of Pansy's favourite pastimes was inventing new ways to compare their looks to that of various potions ingredients, be it flobberworms or fig leaves.

"At least you can look in a mirror without it shattering," Hermione said to Katelyn in a stage-whisper, her voice raised just enough for all to hear.

The Gryffindor boys found this particularly funny, and had to fight valiantly to suppress their laughter lest they be docked points for being unruly. Thankfully, Snape was still scribbling away at his parchment, not paying them any mind, and Pansy was left sulking and red-faced at the back of the line. She was never much for thinking on her feet, so comebacks were rare from the prissy Slytherin.

Katelyn took Hermione's hand and squeezed back. She would definitely need to give her friend a proper apology for the events of the night.

Before she had any more time to give it thought, it was her turn to hand in her essay. She fixed her gaze on the stack of parchments on the desk, making sure that her eyes didn't leave the pile until she was already turning to head back to her desk.

Snape hadn't looked up this time, but unfortunately for Katelyn, Pansy decided to take revenge for Hermione's earlier comeback and stuck her foot out as Katelyn walked by, sending her tumbling forward. A loud thud rang through her skull as her forehead collided with the edge of a desk before she unceremoniously crumpled to the floor.

"Oops! I'm sorry Potter, must not have seen my foot there!" Pansy said in mocking surprise as Katelyn clutched at her forehead. "Maybe it's time to get that prescription updated, eh?"

She ignored her, begrudgingly accepting Hermione's hand and staggering back to her feet.

"Oh, bollocks, Parkinson," growled Ron. "Like anyone believes you didn't mean to trip her."

"Language, Weasley!" barked Snape. "Ten points from Gryffindor, and be thankful it isn't more. As for you Miss Parkinson, I suggest you keep better track of your extremities lest you find yourself writing a very, very long essay on basic safety in the laboratory."

There was a collective groan from one half of the room and snickering from the other.

"Are you hurt?" Hermione asked as she ushered Katelyn into her seat.

"Fine," she muttered, her head still throbbing from the impact. "I'm so stupid. I should have seen that coming."

"Nonsense, Katelyn. You had plenty of other things on your mind. "

Ron came up behind, still bristling.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, just hurts a bit. It's okay, Ron."

She forced herself to smile even though the room was still swaying slightly.

"Well, alright then," he sighed.

Katelyn thought he heard him muttering about snakes as he went to sit down at his station.

"Now," said Snape. "That's enough buffoonery from the lot of you. Put away everything but a quill and ink. We have a quiz to be getting on with."

As soon as the shuffling of bags being stowed came to an end, a flick of Snape's wand conjured the essays directly onto their desks. Katelyn allowed herself a small sigh. This very quiz had caused her so much trouble, and she hadn't even taken it yet.

 _1: Describe the difference between a frog and a toad, in detail._

' _A toad is type of frog. Both are amphibians, but frogs usually spend more time in water than toads, who can survive on dry land. Frogs skin is usually more moist and smooth, and toads skin is usually dry and bumpy. Toads have shorter legs and do not hop as far or as often as frogs.'_

She scanned the rest of the quiz and was dismayed to see that there were twenty-six questions in total.

 _2: Describe, in detail, the origins of the muggle myth that toads can confer warts by skin contact. Use at least two specific examples._

Katelyn sighed, a bit louder this time. She'd spent so much time studying the different species that she'd hardly revised the history of muggle versus magical ones. To her side, Hermione was writing with determination, while a quick glance across at Ron showed him looking resigned to defeat. Neville, surprisingly, looked quite pleased with himself.

' _From the 1600s to about 1850, a common way to protect a wizard's toad pasture was to use protective charms on the toads. A popular charm would cause warts to grow if a muggle came too close. In 1723 there was a famous case of muggle-baiting, where Barnaby the Bulbous trained dozens of cursed toads to attack his daughters muggle suitors, causing them to grow painful boils._

She took a moment to appreciate that at least Snape hadn't shouted at her for tripping - for being tripped, rather. In her mind, she could hear Healer Burch's voice, patiently remonstrating her: _'You didn't just trip, Katelyn. Pansy tripped you, and most likely intentionally. Remember, we're working on not automatically assuming the blame whenever anything bad happens. Not everything is your fault.'_

 _3: List the three most common toads in Scotland, in order of prevalence._

Maybe Healer Burch was right, but it was hard to see how last night could be anything _but_ her fault. She made a mental note to give Hermione a good and proper apology, maybe later tonight if she could actually manage to find the right words.

* * *

That evening after dinner, Ron caught Katelyn's eye as they walked back to the common room.

"Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?" he said hesitantly.

"Not at all."

"Did anything happen this morning? I've been trying to hold off asking, but I could tell something was wrong and I can't stop thinking about it."

She sighed.

"Yeah … well, it was last night I think, really."

"No, it was technically this morning," Hermione corrected automatically.

"Right. Well, this morning I couldn't sleep, and I … I got a little bit antsy, so I snuck out and went for a walk."

"You didn't get caught, did you?"

"By Snape."

"Snape?" Ron and Hermione both gasped in unison.

"What!?" exclaimed Hermione. "You mean that you got caught? By Professor Snape?!"

Katelyn blanched. She'd never gotten around to mentioning that bit to Hermione, had she?

"Er - can we go somewhere quieter?" she suggested, steering them away from the main staircase and down a side passage lest anyone overhear. Hermione fidgeted the entire way, as they travelled down a corridor and into an empty classroom.

"Okay, Katelyn," said Hermione, sounding a bit frantic. "You never said anything about getting caught! Does that mean you've got detention with him again? Why wouldn't you tell me?"

"I - it was already so much, I just - I didn't want to make you any more upset. I'm sorry! I really am - I just - I - "

"Okay, okay, it's alright, relax! Relax."

Hermione took hold of Katelyn's shoulders and held her steady.

"Just breathe, Katelyn. It's … it's fine. You're safe and that's all that matters. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let myself get worked up like that. Deep breaths. It's okay."

"Sorry," she muttered, feeling both embarrassed and guilty at once.

"No, don't be. It wasn't fair of me to react like that."

"Why don't you start from the beginning?" suggested Ron. "If you need a minute, I mean, that's fine too."

"No, it's okay. I was in the trophy room, and when I came out Miss Norris was there - "

"Miss Norris?" interjected Hermione.

"They're friends," explained Ron, with a hint of distaste. "Miss Norris favours her."

"Well, something like that. Anyways, I was stupid, and I took off the cloak to pet her in the middle of the corridor. I don't know if Snape followed Miss Norris or it was just a coincidence, but he saw me."

"Do you have detention, then?" asked Ron. "Or worse?"

"I suppose that's also why we were short ten points this morning," said Hermione. "I wish you would have told us that you have detention, Katelyn. I understand that you didn't want to trouble us, but we want to help."

"I … I don't have detention."

"You what?" said Ron. "Er - I mean, go on."

"Well, Snape just brought me to McGonagall. She talked with me for a while … scolded me a bit … then she took ten points and brought me back to the dorm."

"That's it?" Ron asked, slightly incredulous.

"She told me that I'll be in serious trouble if I do it again. She said she wants me to wake her up the next time I can't sleep."

"You could wake me up too, you know," said Hermione.

At that, Katelyn hung her head.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm an idiot … "

"You're not an idiot Katelyn. Not even close. You just … had a lacking education in some very specific areas."

"Like what?"

"Friendship … love … "

"... Love … " Katelyn whispered to herself, thinking back to the many times Healer Burch had said something similar. That she had to learn to love and be loved, and there was nothing wrong with it.

"I suppose," she said after a moment. "It's just … it's hard. Healer Burch said that it can take a long time to really believe it, deep down. Everything changed so suddenly. Overnight. It feels like I'm dreaming sometimes."

"We've talked about this before. Neither of us are here just because you tried to take your own life, Katelyn - "

"I wish you wouldn't say it out loud," Katelyn said, but she regretted it immediately.

"O-oh, of course, I'm sorry … " Hermione said, flushing red.

"No, no, I'm sorry … Healer Burch said that I shouldn't try to shy away from it. Like saying Voldemort. But I'm just … it really isn't easy. It seems so much better to just pretend it never happened."

"Well," said Ron, who'd cringed when she said his name, "it's like she said. It'll take time. You can get to it when you feel okay about it."

"I agree with Ron, actually. It might be true that it's good to be open about this sort of thing, but it's also incredibly risky that someone might overhear."

The door to the room opened, revealing a grim-faced Oliver Wood.

"Katelyn?"

"Oliver!" she gasped, her mind jarring to a halt. "What are you doing here?"

"I called in a favour with the twins. They said I might find you here. I wanted to ask you about what I overheard this morning, but I think I know the answer."

"O-overheard?"

"I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep, so I figured I'd go down to update the notice board, but then I heard your voices. Like I said, I wasn't sure what you two were talking about at first, but now I know."

"H-how long were you just standing outside for?"

"Long enough. You never really had dragon pox, did you?"

Katelyn felt cold, paralyzing shock wrapping her up as she stared dumbly at her captain. Ron jumped to his feet, his posture defensive.

"You can't tell anyone about this," he said bravely, though Oliver was at least a full head taller than him. "The professors already know, and nobody else needs to. I won't let you."

"I would never," Oliver said placatingly, holding his open palms up. "But I need to talk to her about it."

Both of her friends looked to her for a sign, but her mind was blank. She wasn't ready for this. Her mouth opened and closed as the vaguest semblances of thought eluded her grasp.

"I … I …"

"I think it's her choice if she wants to talk about it," said Ron, still standing between the two.

Hermione got up and put a steadying hand on Ron's shoulder.

"Why don't we just give her some time," she said, much more gently. "Surely you can wait a few days."

Oliver sighed, and then ran his hands through his hair and sighed again.

"Yeah, of course," he relented. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you or anything. I was just worried. But yeah, later is fine. Sorry. And I promise I won't say a word to anyone."

He turned and walked out of the room. After the door clicked shut, Katelyn could do nothing but look back and forth between her two friends, still utterly frozen with fear.

"What do I do?" she whimpered.

"Do you want to talk to Professor McGonagall?" asked Hermione as the two sat back down beside her. "Maybe she can do something."

"He could take a vow," suggested Ron. "So he wouldn't be able to tell anyone."

"I don't — I …"

Hermione pursed her lips for a moment before moving to Katelyn's side and trying to comfort her.

"Just breathe, Katelyn," she said soothingly, rubbing circles across Katelyn's back with her hand. "You don't have to do anything right now. Just relax."

Katelyn nodded stupidly, while Ron came and sat on her other side.

"Do you want to see Madam Pomfrey for a calming draught?"

"N-no … I just … "

Katelyn heaved a deep breath.

"I don't want to do anything."

"We can stay here for a while," Ron suggested. "No sense rushing off to do anything rash."

Hermione's hand working across her back was already helping to soothe her. Her chest felt like it was uncoiling, and her breaths were beginning to come more easily.

"Yeah," she murmured. "That would be nice."


	16. Chapter 16

Hermione's Saturday began - according to her analogue muggle alarm clock - at 1:46 AM, with a soft rustling outside her bed curtains. As she began to wake, the events of the previous day immediately flew to the forefront of her mind. Was Katelyn leaving her bed?

She had to stop herself from springing up and leaping out of bed - Professor McGonagall had apparently instructed Katelyn to head to her office if she ever had trouble sleeping again. Though Hermione hadn't heard it from their Head of House herself, she had to trust her friend. She couldn't go questioning Katelyn's every move. That wasn't what friends do.

It did sadden her, just a little, to know that Katelyn would rather go to Professor McGonagall than to her. Hermione had tried suggesting that Katelyn wake her up instead, but she supposed that it was perfectly valid that Katelyn was too afraid to trouble her. Sure, it was no trouble at all in her eyes, but she couldn't fault her friend for thinking that way. It was actually heartening that Katelyn was so considerate of her needs, considering how she was raised. And, on further thought, it was the Professor's responsibility, after all, to take on some of the parental responsibilities now that they were at a boarding school. Hermione was only twelve. She had been reminding herself of that an awful lot lately.

Well, maybe she should just check in on Katelyn anyway. Would it seem like a show of mistrust or of concern? Was it worth the risk if Katelyn was about to do something dangerous because she didn't truly believe that she was worthy of help?

She slowly sat up and pulled back the covers.

' _It really shouldn't be such a big decision_ ', she told herself. Maybe she was just imagining things, and it had just been Katelyn tossing and turning in her sleep. She did it quite oft -

A sliver of moonlight broke through as her curtain was slowly pulled back, revealing the pale face of Katelyn Potter.

"Oh," Katelyn whispered, eyes wide. "You're awake."

Hermione took a longer look at Katelyn and thought she could see tear tracks. Her friend seemed restless and anxious.

"You didn't wake me," she said, trying to sound reassuring. "I was already up. Are you alright? What's wrong?"

"Oh … uh … " Katelyn averted her eyes, wringing her hands together. "I … was wondering if you w-would come to McGonagall's office with … with me."

She suddenly turned away.

"Nevermind, I'm just being stupid. I - I don't need -"

"Of course I'll come with," Hermione said quickly, getting to her feet. "Just let me put on my slippers."

"No, you don't have to. I'm fine. I j-just wanted to tell you I was going actually. I didn't mean -"

"Katelyn," she soothed, carefully placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's alright. I'm happy to. Truly. Let's get going."

Katelyn slowly turned back. Her eyes darted back and forth as they often did when she was deep in self-doubt and worry.

"You're sure?"

Hermione smiled, even though deep down it hurt to see that Katelyn still had such a hard time believing anyone would want to help her.

"Yes. I'd love nothing more. Now come on, before we wake the others."

They both jumped slightly as the groggy voice of Parvati Patil came through her curtains.

"It's too late for that," she groaned, before slowly poking her head out, rubbing her eyes. "What on earth are you two doing?"

"Oh! Sorry about that," Hermione said, thinking fast. "Katelyn isn't feeling well, so we're going to see Professor McGonagall."

There was a moment of silence.

"At two in the morning?"

"You'd better not be up to something," came the voice of Lavender Brown, still hidden within the depths of her four-poster. "I don't want to lose any more points."

"Er - sorry about that too," she said, wincing slightly. "But no, we were given permission to see her past curfew, if we need to. I promise."

"If you say so," Parvati sighed, clearly too tired to argue. "I hope you feel better."

"T-thank you," Katelyn squeaked.

Hermione took the opportunity to gently nudge her toward the door.

"Well, that could have gone worse," she remarked somewhat breathlessly, once they were safely down in the common room.

Katelyn nodded, though she was beginning to look genuinely unwell. Hermione quickened their pace, just a little, down through the empty common room and through the portrait hole.

To their surprise, the Fat Lady was awake when they emerged on the other side.

"Now now dears," she said reluctantly, "I can't stand for you wandering off in the night anymore. McGonagall gave me quite the talking to, and I'm afraid I've got to put my foot down. I understand -"

"We're going to see her," Hermione said, wincing slightly as she interrupted the portrait. It was rude, yes, but Katelyn's wellbeing was far more important.

"Ah, good," the Fat Lady sighed, apparently relieved that she wouldn't have to intervene. "I'll just, uh … kip back down then … as you were."

"Thank you," she said over her shoulder, as she had already begun ushering Katelyn down the steps.

Hermione felt a growing sense of urgency as they travelled the many flights of stairs to Professor McGonagall's office. Katelyn really did look dreadfully pale, her fists clenched and face taught as if she was trying to stop herself from crying.

Once they finally reached the professor's office, Hermione felt a cold swell of fear at the thought of knocking on the door, yet at the same time, she nearly had to restrain herself from just barging in and shaking her head of house awake herself.

She told herself to be brave, though she felt the exact opposite. She took a deep breath and knocked as loudly as she could muster.

The silence was deafening as they waited. Katelyn was shivering, eyes cast downward. Hermione's heart felt a bit like it was being twisted by a great big hand.

"Katelyn … would you like a hug?"

Her friend nodded somewhat frantically, eyes screwed shut. She practically launched herself into the embrace the moment Hermione opened her arms.

"It's alright," she murmured as Katelyn sniffled into her shoulder. "Shh. It's okay."

A moment later, the door opened, and there stood Professor McGonagall, still dressed in her nightgown.

"Oh," she said simply.

Hermione couldn't properly see the professor's expression with Katelyn's head of thick black hair still buried in her shoulder and smushed up against her cheek, but she could hear the mild surprise in the professor's voice.

"Well, come in then, dears."

"Come on, Katelyn," Hermione said softly, nudging her friend. "Let's go inside, alright?"

Katelyn didn't answer, but she let herself be unwound from between Hermione's arms and led through the office towards a small sofa, across from an empty hearth. She seemed to have regained some of her composure by the time she'd sunk into the cushions. Though the tears had stopped, she quickly tucked her knees up to her chest and hid her face behind her arms.

Hermione watched as Professor McGonagall elegantly conjured a full tea set onto the coffee table, before lighting a gentle fire in the hearth.

"So, I must admit, dear," Professor McGonagall began, speaking softly, "I hadn't expected you to take me up on my offer so soon. Have you been having this much trouble sleeping every night?"

Katelyn shook her head without looking up.

"Well, never mind that, I suppose. It's no matter. Make no mistake, I am truly glad you came to see me instead of trying to handle the problem on your own. You're certainly welcome to do so as often as you deem necessary, and bringing Miss Granger with was a wise decision. Now, would you like to share what's troubling you?"

Katelyn peered up from behind her knees, but she only grew more distressed as she couldn't seem to bring herself to speak. Hermione gently placed a hand on Katelyn's back and began rubbing in slow circles, something that she'd discovered which usually seemed to help her relax, at least a little.

"Katelyn's upset," Hermione explained, taking over so that Katelyn could bury her head behind her arms once more. "I'm assuming that she couldn't sleep because … Is it okay if I tell her?"

Katelyn nodded again.

"It's to do with Oliver Wood, professor."

McGonagall's eyes went wide.

"Oliver?! What has he done?" she said somewhat hotly, as if she was already fixing to jinx the boy's eyebrows clean off.

"Last night, Katelyn, Ron, and I went to an abandoned classroom for some privacy, to explain to Ron what exactly had happened when Katelyn was caught out past curfew."

It was a startling realization that said events had occurred only yesterday morning. So much had happened since that it already felt like a week had passed.

"We were in the middle of … well … we were discussing her … you know … "

"The attempt?" supplied Professor McGonagall.

"Y-yes, thank you. Well, right in the middle of the conversation, Oliver Wood came into the room. He'd been eavesdropping, and he said he wanted to talk to Katelyn about what he'd heard."

"So you presume he knows about your suicide attempt. I can certainly understand why you're upset, Katelyn. And did you talk with him?"

"She was too panicked at the time. We asked him to let her have some time to process it all. He did promise he wouldn't tell anyone about it, but as you can tell, Katelyn still isn't taking it well."

McGonagall shook her head in frustration.

"That boy … I'll have words with him before class. I'd have thought him better than butting in on a private conversation."

"Well, from what he told us, he'd already overheard an earlier conversation by accident, which was my fault. I was talking with Katelyn in the common room the night before, right after she returned from your office. Oliver was coming down the stairs when he heard us talking. That's why he thought something was wrong, though he didn't know exactly what."

"That does not excuse him eavesdropping again intentionally. And I will be happy to take measures to ensure that he will not be revealing your secret anytime soon. I think a vow should suffice."

"A vow? Aren't they rather dangerous?" Hermione said before she could stop herself.

"Oh, from an inexperienced witch or wizard, absolutely. But this would simply be a vow that would prevent him from speaking should he attempt to discuss it."

"Like Katelyn's healer."

"Exactly correct, Miss Granger."

Though Katelyn's head was still hung in misery, Hermione was relieved to see her finally reach for her cup of tea and take a small sip.

"Do you feel any better?" she asked, still gently rubbing her back.

"Yeah … I guess … I'm really sorry. I know I'm just being emotional … "

"Nonsense, Katelyn," Professor McGonagall said firmly. "You have every right to be upset. And don't get me started on you inconveniencing myself or Miss Granger. It's hardly any trouble at all, and, even if it were the faintest of a fuss, it's much preferable to the alternative."

"I'm just glad we can help, Katelyn," Hermione insisted.

" … okay," Katelyn conceded softly.

"Now, besides ensuring that Oliver won't be revealing your secrets, is there anything else I can do to put your mind at ease? Perhaps if you'd like to take some time off from practice? I wouldn't force you to be around him if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No — no, that's okay. He's …"

Katelyn sighed deeply, and took another long sip.

"He's been really good since I came back. I think maybe - maybe he's just really worried. I don't know … "

"You don't have to defend him, Katelyn," Hermione said, still rubbing circles across her back. "Maybe he meant well, but what he did was still wrong."

Katelyn didn't seem to know what to make of that. It was a long time before she finally spoke.

"What if he wants to kick me off the team?"

"Absolutely not," said McGonagall. "At this point, it's more likely that I'll boot _him_ off the team."

"I don't want him to get in trouble," Katelyn said timidly. "Please … it's not his fault."

"Under normal circumstances, I would tell you that I am the one who makes that decision," said Professor McGonagall. "And, in truth, I had only planned to give him a stern talking-to and a detention for the evening. But, out of respect for you, if you truly do not believe he deserves to be punished, I will refrain from doing so this once."

"Yes please."

Professor McGonagall smiled.

"So be it. Now, is there anything else I can do to help you get some proper rest?"

Katelyn shook her head.

"Not really, no. I feel better now."

"Very well," she said after studying her for a moment. "I'll take you back, then, if you're ready."

Walking the halls of Hogwarts at night was certainly a lot less frightening while being escorted by perhaps one of the most powerful witches in Britain. Hermione had been too worried about Katelyn to properly notice on their way down, but now that things had calmed, she could see how utterly spooky the castle could be in the dark. She was surprised that someone like Katelyn could have _enjoyed_ doing it alone. Her stomach twisted slightly as she wondered what her life must have been like that she'd prefer it to sleeping in her bed.

When they reached the entrance to the common room, the portrait of the Fat Lady looked quite pleased to see Professor McGonagall escorting them.

"Oh, and don't forget, Katelyn," their professor said as they climbed through. "Your next appointment is coming up. Tomorrow afternoon. We'll meet at my office like usual."

"Yes, ma'am."

Once the portrait hole sealed shut, Hermione couldn't help looking her friend over once more for good measure.

"So you truly do feel better? If you're not, it's okay. I'd just like to know."

Katelyn gave her a slight smile, the kind that was more with her eyes than anything.

"I'm nervous … like always, but I really do feel better now."

"I'm so happy to hear that. But you can still wake me up any time if you need anything at all. Tomorrow is only Saturday, after all."

She nodded.

"I will."

The two girls tiptoed back into the common room. Hermione couldn't say that tonight was the oddest thing that had ever happened to her. Not even of late.

"Goodnight Katelyn," she said as before they slipped into their beds.

"Goodnight Hermione."

* * *

Katelyn was feeling … _better._ The last few days had been a whirlwind of emotions, but now it seemed the storm was beginning to settle. In class, Professor Snape hadn't shouted at her once, though he'd never had a better reason to. She still didn't like Oliver knowing her secret, but it wasn't as if Draco Malfoy had found out. After all, Hermione and Ron knew, and they had been good to her, so she supposed that maybe he would understand too. If he hated her for it … well, she supposed she couldn't blame him.

For Katelyn, last night had been … embarrassing, to say the least, but after her visit with McGonagall, she'd slept the best she had in days. She was so incredibly lucky to have two friends that cared about her, and Professor McGonagall, and Healer Burch. If often felt like she wouldn't be here at all if not for them.

Katelyn had been lying awake for quite a while now, just savouring the sensation of soft, warm bed sheets and the morning light trickling through her curtains. She'd listened as Lavender and Parvati got up and went down to breakfast together. There was a certain tranquillity that came with knowing that you didn't need to get up until well past lunch if you didn't really want to.

She only rose a good while later, when she heard movement coming from Hermione's four-poster. Oddly, she found that she was actually looking forward to seeing her friend. She still remembered the feeling of dread at facing another day making believe, not willing to believe that Hermione actually cared. Things were so different now.

She could feel herself smiling as she peered out of her curtains to see Hermione doing the same. Her friend looked well rested and happy, even as she was stifling a little yawn with her hand. Katelyn opened her mouth to speak but found that she didn't really have anything to say. Oddly, that was okay with her.

"Good morning, Katelyn," Hermione said, smiling back at her.

Oh. Right. That's probably what she'd meant to say.

"Good morning," she replied, not letting herself dwell on the moment.

"So, did you sleep well?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, really well, thanks."

"No nightmares, then?"

"Er - well … a few," she said sheepishly, scratching her head, "but it wasn't anything too bad."

Hermione thought for a moment, before accepting her answer with a sympathetic nod.

"It's a start, I suppose."

"And … are you okay too? I know you wanted to come with and all, but it was still really late to be up. "

"Mm, I'm a little bit tired I suppose, but it is Saturday after all." She took a moment to stretch her arms out. "Well, let's get ready and go see if Ron's up, shall we?"

"Yes, please."

Ron was, unsurprisingly, waiting for them when they ventured down a few minutes later. The common room was crowded with older students, all enjoying their day off, but luckily for Katelyn, Oliver Oliver was nowhere to be seen.

"Where have you been?" Ron teased. "I'm starving!"

"Of course you are," Hermione said with a halfhearted scoff.

"Everything alright?" Ron asked, lowering his voice.

Hermione looked at Katelyn as if seeking permission to answer for her.

"I'll tell you later," she said. Hermione had done most of the talking last night, but this she could handle. "Everything's okay, though. Honest."

"Good," Ron said with a small sigh. "Let's go eat!"

Their breakfast was blissfully undisturbed. Not a single Slytherin (or Gryffindor) came to bother them as they ate, save for the Weasley twins popping in for a quick hello.

Katelyn gave Ron a quick, whispered recounting of how they'd gone to see McGonagall that night, due to her anxieties about Oliver, and that McGonagall had promised to take steps to resolve the issue.

"Well, I still think he's a right git, butting in on you like that," Ron said once she finished. "If he keeps bothering you, just say the word and I'll wallop him for you."

"You'll do no such thing, Ron!" Hermione said sternly. "I hope you're joking."

"I mean … sort of."

"It's very nice of you to offer," said Katelyn, "but I'd rather you didn't try to hit anyone. Not even Malfoy."

"Violence isn't the way to solve problems, Ron."

"Oh, I know …" Ron grumbled. "But his face practically has 'punch me' written all over it."

Katelyn couldn't help but snicker.

* * *

Now was the time. After having worried about it for the entire day, practice started in twenty minutes. Katelyn hadn't seen hide nor hair of Oliver since last night, but it was doubtful that McGonagall would have pulled him from practice altogether. She was just about to leave the common room when Hermione caught her eye.

"Katelyn," she said gingerly, "Ron and I have been talking. How would you feel about us coming to watch your practice?"

"Why?"

"Well … the weather is getting a bit warmer, so we thought it might be - oh, I won't lie to you, Katelyn. You have to deal with those dreadful chasers and now Oliver has been giving you trouble too. We just thought it would be a good idea to keep you company. I've looked, and there's no rule against it."

"You don't have to do that."

"Of course we don't. We want to. Well, unless it would make you uncomfortable. But we could walk down to the pitch with you at least. Would that be okay?"

"I … I guess so."

"Good! Let's go get Ron, then, shall we?"

And so it was that, a few minutes later, Katelyn was heading down to practice with her two friends at her side. Katelyn felt guilty like she always did when they were being kind to her, but she couldn't deny that it was far better than making the long trek to the locker room by herself.

"Are you sure you don't want us to come in with you?"Hermione asked once they'd arrived outside the door.

"I don't think we're allowed, Hermione," said Ron.

"It's okay. I'll be fine. I can - I'll come find you if he gives me any trouble, okay?"

Hermione pursed her lips.

"Well, alright."

The twins suddenly appeared behind them, mischievous grins in place.

"Well well well!" they said together.

"Looks like we've got two new recruits!"

"Do you reckon our little Ronniekins fancies himself a beater?"

"Just like his big brothers!"

"On second thought, he might make a decent keeper."

"Granger, though … well you've got a good build for seeker, I'd say."

They both made a show of looking her up and down.

"Right you are, Fred. Seeker it is."

"Well, if you don't mind being the reserve, of course."

Hermione's face was slightly taught, as if she couldn't decide if she should be offended.

"They're just here to watch me practice," Katelyn said, though she imagined they already knew that.

Surprisingly, the twins suddenly became rather serious.

"Ah," said Fred. "Can't blame you."

"We'll be keeping an eye on her, too," said George.

"Apparently Oliver took Alicia aside and gave her a real piece of his mind."

"She's got a right thick head, though."

"Especially where our little Katelyn is concerned."

"Who knows if any of it stuck."

By now Katelyn, Hermione, and Ron were all looking back and forth at one another.

"Yes … " Hermione said slowly. "That is actually why we're here. We were just a little worried."

The twins nodded sagely.

"Good on you two, looking out for her," said Fred.

"You've picked some good friends, you have," said George.

Katelyn couldn't help a small grin breaking through.

"I think they picked me, really."

When Katelyn entered the locker room, flanked by the twins, all eyes were on her. Alicia and Angelina didn't look pleased to see her, while Oliver kept his expression blank. Katie Bell seemed especially uncomfortable, stood in between the two.

"Alright, now that we're all here," Oliver began, as though there was nothing odd going on whatsoever. "I want to go over the usual drills -"

"Sheesh Oliver," Fred said lightheartedly.

"D'you reckon you want to let us get changed before you start practice?"

"Oh. Right. Yes, of course. We'll uh … start in a minute then."

As Katelyn got kitted out, she couldn't help but think that Oliver seemed more nervous today than he had before their first game against Slytherin. She supposed that maybe he had less experience with … well, her sort of situation.

Katelyn had nearly forgotten that Hermione and Ron had come to watch her practice until she stepped out onto the pitch to see two bundled up lumps of jackets and bright red Gryffindor scarves in the stands. They both waved enthusiastically once she spotted them. She would never have guessed just how much better it would make her feel, but as she waved back, she once again felt incredibly grateful for her two friends.

"Alright everyone, let's get started!" Oliver called out.

The team collectively pretended nothing was wrong for the duration of practice. Katelyn pushed herself hard during warmups, not just because she hadn't exercised in weeks, but because tiring herself out was a great way to force herself to relax a little.

As practice began, it quickly became clear that the team was not in top form. Oliver stammered, Alicia smouldered, and the twins cracked a few jokes, but it felt like they were trying a lot harder than usual to lighten the mood. As the minutes carried on, their team cohesion seemed to have disintegrated. Passes were bungled, manoeuvres were botched, and their communication had likely never been worse. Katelyn found herself trying not to look down at Hermione and Ron too often, if only because she felt embarrassed.

By the time Oliver called it a night, it seemed like everyone was ready to just give it up. Katelyn had never seen the team get changed and scurry away faster.

After the locker room cleared out, Katelyn herself was about to leave when she heard Oliver call out her name, in a voice so small that it hardly sounded like his own.

"Katelyn?"

Despite herself, and despite the lump that immediately formed in her throat, she stopped. He didn't sound angry, at least.

"Do you … have a second?"

"Yes," she croaked.

Her legs carried her back across the room, and she carefully lowered herself onto a bench. She was still too afraid to really look at him properly.

"So I … er … want to apologize. Obviously." He sighed deeply. She could hear him running his hands through his hair in exasperation. "I thought something was wrong … I wanted to help … but I just didn't think that … well, I didn't really think at all. So I really am sorry. It was wrong of me to pry into your life like that. I may be your captain but it's not my place."

He sounded so utterly genuine.

"McGonagall told me that I should also tell you … er … that I don't think any less of you, because of what you did - I mean, uh, because of what happened. She said that it was important you know that. And it's true. I wish I understood … and I wish I didn't feel so ruddy guilty. I - wish I would have done something sooner."

He heaved another great sigh. Katelyn's chest felt tight, but hearing him say as much was all she could have hoped for.

"Well, anyways, you don't have to accept my apology, but you're still welcome on the team, of course. And I took a vow with McGonagall, so I can't tell a soul. I promise I'll keep my nose out of your business for good. I trust McGonagall when she says that it's under control. Anyways, that's all I wanted to say, I think. I uh … I'll be going now. Thanks for listening."

Katelyn scrambled to piece her thoughts together as Oliver turned to go.

"I accept!" she squeaked as he stepped outside.

Oliver froze in the doorway.

"Sorry, what?"

"Apology accepted," she said, a little louder.

Oliver sighed a last great sigh, this time of relief.

"You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that, Katelyn. I really let you down … but I'll make it up to you. Okay?"

"You don't have to. It's not your fault."

"As long as you say so."

"You really don't think I'm … pathetic? For what I did?"

"Of course not."

"Well … thanks, then."

"Don't mention it."

She finally managed to bring herself to look at him properly, and he was smiling. An insecure, hesitant smile, but a smile all the same.

"So … I have detention with McGonagall Sunday and Monday evening," he said, his voice lighter than it had been just a moment ago. "I shouldn't have to miss practice, but I wanted to let you know in case you wanted to talk about - err, anything. You know."

"Detention? But she said that she wouldn't - I - I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for you to get in trouble! I just - "

"I asked for the detention. McGonagall told me that you didn't want that, but I've been feeling so lousy about it all … I figured it would help clear my conscience, just a little bit. I hope you don't mind."

" … oh," she said, shuffling her feet. "Alright then, I suppose."

"Good," Oliver said with a grin. "Besides that, I'm here if you ever want to talk. I'll see you around."

Katelyn had to take a moment to gather herself before she left. To calm herself down after what had been a very intense conversation. Hermione and Ron were waiting for her when she finally emerged. They looked very relieved to see her.

"So you talked with Oliver?" Hermione asked before Katelyn had even closed the door behind her. "Are you feeling alright?"

"How did you …"

"Well, we knew it was only you two left in the locker room."

"She practically pounced on him the second he came out," said Ron.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," she said adamantly.

"Well, he told us that he only apologized, but he wouldn't really say much else. Said it was up to you."

"Yes, I'm fine. He really was just worried about me. And he apologized for eavesdropping and everything. He even said he took a vow with McGonagall not to tell anyone."

"That's … that's very good of him," Hermione conceded.

"I'm glad he's doing right by you," agreed Ron.

The three had a pleasant evening stroll back up to the castle, all things considered.

"Do you think we ought to go and visit Hagrid tomorrow?" Hermione asked as they looked upon the hut, nestled into the shadowy edge of the grounds. "We've not seen him for a while."

The soft orange glow of firelight emanated from inside, and smoke gently twirled upwards from the chimney. Katelyn didn't know if he knew the truth, but … well, if Oliver knew, she could face him too. She missed his awful cooking, and Fang jumping up into her lap trying to drink her tea. She missed Hagrid.

"Yes. I'd like that," said Katelyn.

Perhaps it was too optimistic to say so, but it seemed like Katelyn's sizable list of things to dread was growing a little smaller every day.


	17. Chapter 17

Katelyn woke with a gasp and a splitting headache. She couldn't properly remember it, but knew she'd been having another nightmare about her parents. Always the same haunting screams, the same evil laughter, echoing around in her head long after she woke. Like an old wound being rubbed raw, never allowed to heal over. It seemed to be getting worse rather than better, and she thought it might be starting to drive her just slightly mental.

And she'd been foolish enough to think that things were looking up.

"Katelyn? Are you awake?" said Hermione, just outside her curtains.

"Yes," she answered sheepishly, trying not to shrink inwards in shame as Hermione peered inside.

"Oh," Hermione murmured. "Another nightmare?"

She sat down on the bed before Katelyn could answer.

"It's f-"

"I know it's fine, but it shouldn't be. You shouldn't have to wake up terrified every morning."

Katelyn ducked her head, as a sudden wave of sobs fought to break free and a tear trickled down her cheek. ' _Don't cry … don't cry … don't you dare!'_ she told herself. She was so utterly sick of crying.

"There there, it's okay," Hermione said, as she began to gently rub Katelyn's back.

Thankfully, it was only Sunday, and she had nowhere to be until well after noon. They sat together for a good while, until her sudden outburst of emotion faded. She might have let a few stray sobs escape, but it was not for a lack of trying. Her head still throbbed angrily.

"It's not fair is it?" Hermione remarked idly, still rubbing circles with her hand.

"W-what?"

"You're such a wonderful person, Katelyn. It's really not fair … you deserve so much better."

Katelyn knew she was supposed to think of herself as a good person too.

"Thanks," she said weakly, before a sudden wave of nausea swelled within her head and chest. Her headaches normally faded after a few minutes, but right now the pain was so intense that her ears were ringing. "I … need the loo."

Hermione followed her from a distance, waiting in the wings as Katelyn upturned what little was in her stomach. She only trudged down to the common room after a lengthy pep talk from Hermione (and being forced to brush her teeth, of course), feeling a bit miserable and embarrassed.

"It'll get better, Katelyn, you'll see," Hermione repeated for the second or third time as they reached the bottom steps. "Don't worry."

Katelyn only felt worse when Ron came to greet them, and she couldn't muster so much as a smile. Another awful day began fretting over Katelyn's many woes.

"Just a headache," she muttered unconvincingly.

A small hiccup of a sob broke free from within her, but she bit down hard lest she make a scene in the common room.

"Oh, what are you blubbering about now, Potter?" Alicia Spinnet called out, from where she was lounging by the study tables with Angelina. "Stub your toe on the way down?"

"Let's just go," Katelyn pleaded under her breath as a light round of a snickering sounded from around the common room. "Please."

Before they could leave, however, the Weasley twins, who were sitting nearby, came to her defence.

"Almost looks like she had a sudden flashback of the last time you forgot deodorant before practice!" George said, while Fred mimed bursting into tears and gagging at the same time. "Last time it happened to me I nearly fainted."

"I still don't think all of my nose hairs have grown back … " Fred sobbed.

The snickers became laughter as the trio, flanked by the twins, hurried out of the common room together. Katelyn didn't get a look at Alicia, but her voice certainly hadn't been amongst the laughter.

"Thanks, Fred, George," Ron said.

"Shame Oliver wasn't there."

"Would have given her a real proper telling off."

"Is something the matter with Katelyn?" asked Fred as the portrait hole closed behind them.

"Nasty headache," Hermione said quickly, before asking Katelyn, "Do you want to go see Madam Pomfrey?"

She shrugged noncommittally, and let herself be steered towards the hospital wing, while Fred and George awkwardly said goodbye and went down for breakfast.

Pomfrey looked a bit sad to see Katelyn returning to the wing once more, but she was very kind and patient. After a brief checkup, the matron gave her two potions and the all-clear, and sent the trio on their way.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Hermione asked gingerly.

Katelyn grimaced.

"I don't … it just makes me feel … wrong," she sighed, referring to the quarter-dose of calming draught that was currently smothering her brain. The potion numbed her senses - her thoughts, even - and she couldn't wait for its effects to wear off.

"Well, let's try for some breakfast, eh?" said Ron, gently patting her on the back.

"Sure," she sighed.

With her headache lessened by brute force, she finished a small helping of eggs and toast without much difficulty, though she could hardly taste them thanks to the potion.

They were nearly finished when Hedwig gracefully swooped down to the table, a small brown envelope in her beak.

"Oh … Hedwig," Katelyn sighed. "I'm so sorry. I haven't been to see you in ages, have I?"

The owl hooted softly, and gave her a gentle nibble on the finger as she took the letter.

"Don't worry. We've been keeping her company," said Ron. "Hermione's been owling her parents to ask for help on a project."

"I hope that's alright, Katelyn," said Hermione. "I didn't want to trouble you about it, what with everything else going on."

"No, of course. That's good, actually. I usually feel awful that I never have anything to post."

Hedwig made a little chirping sound and ruffled her feathers a little, as if to say, ' _Don't you worry about me.'_

"What's the project?" Katelyn asked distractedly, as she began breaking a rasher of bacon into small pieces and setting them on a plate.

"Oh, don't even get her started Katelyn. She'll be going on for ages."

"I expect that letter is from Hagrid," Hermione said, apparently not offended in the least. "Let's see what he said."

Katelyn might have noticed her friends avoiding the question were she not so drowsy from the potion, and preoccupied with doting on Hedwig to make up for her neglect over the last few weeks.

Hermione slit the envelope open with a butter knife and quickly scanned over the message.

"He says we can visit any time this morning," she said happily.

"What do you say, Katelyn?" said Ron. "If you're not up for it, we can always go another day."

"No, that's okay. I'll go."

After pecking at some of the bacon, and giving Katelyn a last friendly nip on the finger, Hedwig flew off. The trio was on their way out of the Great Hall when Oliver caught up to them.

"Katelyn," he said, startling her slightly. "The twins told me that Alicia was bothering you this morning."

He didn't look pleased.

"It's nothing. She just poked fun at me because I was … crabby, this morning."

She shrunk slightly, as Oliver's expression made it clear that her explanation wasn't particularly convincing.

"If you don't want me to talk to her, I won't," he said with a sigh. "But she wouldn't do it if she didn't think she could get away with it."

Katelyn shuddered, thinking of the last time Alicia caught her alone in the corridor and threatened her.

" … I don't want to cause trouble."

"I think she deserves some trouble with all the grief she's given you," said Ron. "Serves her right."

"No, please, Oliver," said Hermione. "I hate to say it, but I think you talking to her would cause Katelyn more stress than not. It may be best to try and handle things delicately."

Katelyn shot Hermione a grateful look.

"I promise, I'll tell you if she does anything serious."

"Okay, fine. But if she steps out of line during practice, I'm not going to hold back. She knows better."

On that sombre note, the trio gathered their coats and set out for Hagrid's cabin. The calming draught was beginning to wear off, but thankfully her headache had also subsided. Her mind felt much more clear with the crisp February air swirling about, tickling her skin.

Though physically she felt much better, that still left Hagrid to fret over. Katelyn was excited to see him again, but she couldn't help worrying about what he would think of her. Did he know the truth? Would he be hurt, or even angry, that she hadn't been to visit him for weeks?

It turns out, he was simply glad to see her too. The moment the door cracked open, Hagrid's face split into a huge grin.

"Katelyn, yeh made it!" he cheered, holding back Fang with a great, thick leg. "Well, come on in then, you lot!"

The three stepped out of the cold and into the cosy warmth of Hagrid's cabin, taking seats around the fire as he put the kettle on. Fang eagerly tried to jump into Katelyn's lap and lick her face, and despite Hagrid's protests ("oi, gerrof her ye great mutt!") she didn't mind one bit. Indeed, as she took in the interior of his cabin, with pelts strung from the ceiling and curly wood shavings littered about the floor, she only wished she had decided to visit sooner.

"Hagrid … I'm sorry I took so long to come and see you."

"Ah, don' mention it! I figured you were busy, catchin' up with classes an' all that. McGonagall told me yeh've always been a straight O student!"

She looked to Ron and Hermione, unsure if he had been told what really happened.

"Speakin' of," he went on, his voice becoming much softer and lower, "How are things? I don't mean to stick my nose where it don't belong, but I hear you're doing well now? Since the uh, y'know."

"Yeah. I'm doing really well, thanks."

Hagrid dipped his head sagely. She was shocked, and maybe a little relieved, that he was taking the news so well.

"I'm happy ter hear it. I'm dreadful sorry that I didn't come an' visit, but … well, I thought you might need some space an all. I hope you aren't upset with me."

"Of course not! I was … well, I was actually worried you'd be upset with me."

Hagrid chuckled and smiled warmly.

"Yer a good kid, Katelyn. There's no doubt abou' that. If you ever need anything, you're always welcome here. I don't mean to toot me own horn, but Fang and I are ruddy good listeners, or if'n you just want a cuppa or sommat. S'long as these two haven't put you up to pestering me about Flamel, o'course."

He winked at her, as if she was meant to be in on a joke of some sort.

"What's Flamel?"

She looked to see Ron and Hermione both frantically shaking their heads at Hagrid.

"What?" he said incredulously. "Now _you two_ are the ones that don't want ter talk about 'im? Sheesh."

"What is he talking about?" she asked them.

"It's really nothing, Katelyn," said Hermione, while Ron nodded along vigorously. "It was that uh … project that we mentioned earlier."

"It's for the best you keep yer nose out of it, Katelyn," Hagrid said, leaning in. "Nothin' but a load o' trouble."

"It's … it's not about me, is it?"

Ron and Hermione shared another glance, but Hagrid spoke first.

"Nah, it's nothin' to do with yer, don' worry. Your friends are just nosin' about where they ought not to."

"We're just curious is all," Ron said defensively. "But he's right Katelyn, you shouldn't worry about it."

Hermione nodded her agreement.

"I'm afraid it's dreadfully boring stuff."

"Puts me to sleep every time she brings it up, honestly," added Ron.

"Okay," she said, though it was clear that something was off. "I believe you."

"Now, that's enough o' that business, I reckon," Hagrid said, "Why don't you tell me about yer classes, eh Katelyn?"

After the subject was changed, the air cleared quickly, and she managed to have a wonderfully relaxing, pleasant morning chatting with Hagrid and her friends. His tea was always far too strong, and his food borderline inedible, but nothing put Katelyn at ease like Hagrid's cabin. Fang had fallen asleep with his head in her lap (there was a puddle of drool slowly forming on her robes), and Hermione was engaged in a conversation about centaur and wizard politics throughout the last century, a subject that both Ron and Hagrid actually knew a great deal about.

By the time they parted ways and returned to the castle, Katelyn was in good spirits, as were her two friends. One less thing to worry about.

"Well, that was very nice," remarked Hermione as they shed their coats and hats in the girl's dormitory. "I'm very glad we went, aren't you?"

"Yeah," she nodded happily. "I missed him. More than I realized."

"Do you want to head down for lunch before your appointment, then?"

"No, sorry," she said, suppressing a giggle as Ron snapped to attention at the mention of food. "I really don't like apparating on a full stomach."

"You can apparate?" Ron said in awe.

"No, silly. With McGonagall."

"Oh, side along! Wicked! But why don't you just take the floo?"

"I err ... I don't really like the fire bit."

"But it won't hurt you! "

Katelyn sent Hermione a grateful look when she smacked him on the arm.

* * *

"Welcome back, Katelyn. Please, have a seat. Goodness, it feels like ages since we last met, doesn't it? I must say, you look very well!"

"Thank you. I feel well."

"I'm so happy to hear that, Katelyn! Now, is there anything you'd like to share about your week to get us started? How was returning to classes for you?"

"Oh … gosh, I don't even know where to start."

"It sounds like you've been busy. Why not just start with your first day?"

"Okay, well … it started with Lavender and Parvati being … almost nice to me, which was a bit odd."

"Almost?"

"You see, in the morning when we were getting ready, Hermione … er … went off on them a bit. They were giggling at us because we were both really nervous about class. But then they apologized, and we actually chatted a little. I've never really talked to them before."

"My, Katelyn, that certainly sounds like progress to me. Why don't you tell me a little bit more about them?"

* * *

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You just sighed, Katelyn. "

"Oh … I did, didn't I."

" … Are you worried about having more nightmares?"

Katelyn was sitting with Hermione, at their preferred study table in the quietest corner of the room, late in the evening. After the appointment, her day had been pleasantly uneventful. Professor McGonagall had taken her to a tea shop in the heart of London before apparating her back to the castle. The rest of the day was spent relaxing with Hermione and Ron. Her homework was done, and the list things to be terrified about had only gotten smaller. At the moment, however, one particular item on that list was looming large over her head, like a big black storm cloud.

"Katelyn?" Hermione prompted gently, bringing her back to the present.

"Yeah," she mumbled dejectedly. "A little bit."

"Did you mention them to Healer Burch?"

"I did … she told me to start keeping a journal … but the only way to stop them outright is with potions."

Hermione frowned, very much familiar with her disdain for taking potions.

"I'll do some reading up," she said. "Maybe I can find something else to try."

Katelyn didn't bother trying to dissuade her. There was no hope of putting Hermione off reading anything, no matter how obscure or uninteresting.

Ron, who had just come back from packing up his chess set, arrived to see them both looking forlorn.

"Should I ask?" he said, aware of how often Katelyn's wellbeing was the subject of discussion.

"She's been having nightmares, Ron," Hermione explained. "For a long time."

"I'd sort of figured as much. That's why you were upset this morning, wasn't it?"

Katelyn nodded.

"They've been … worse lately," she said vaguely.

"Well," said Ron, looking thoughtful, "when Ginny was younger, she had a lot of bad dreams. She'd go sleep with mum and dad in their bed. That always seemed to help. Maybe you could … I dunno, put your beds together or something? Like a slumber party."

Hermione opened her mouth to interject, but no words came out. Instead, after a long moment, she hummed thoughtfully.

"Well, I don't imagine it'll help once she's actually asleep, but it can't hurt to try. That is, if you're comfortable with it, Katelyn."

"N-no, you don't have to do that, Hermione."

"Please, Katelyn. I'll sleep better as well knowing that at least we tried."

"Well … I guess."

If Lavender and Parvati thought it was odd that the two girls were pushing their four-posters together, they were at least kind enough not to say as much. Hermione tied the inner curtains together so that the remaining fabric formed one big canopy over their heads.

"I actually quite like it," Hermione said, sitting cross-legged on her mattress as she appreciating their handiwork. "It's rather exciting, don't you think? I must admit, I've never been to a slumber party."

Katelyn felt a small pang of sadness for her friend. She'd forgotten, but Hermione had mentioned hardly having any friends before coming to Hogwarts. They weren't all that different, in that sense.

"Neither have I, but here we are," she said, gesturing to their curtain canopy with a flourish.

Hermione giggled.

"I expect our past selves would be quite jealous if they could see us now."

Katelyn smiled. It had been a rather brilliant idea.

"We'll have to thank Ron in the morning," she said.

Sure, she might still be in for a very long night of tossing and turning, but knowing that Hermione was just beside her seemed to take the edge off. It felt a bit like having a night-light, but for her heart. She just hoped that she didn't toss and turn in her sleep and wake her.

"Goodnight, Katelyn."

"Goodnight."

* * *

"Katelyn. Katelyn?"

"What? H-huh?" she gasped.

"I wasn't sure if I should wake you … but you looked so miserable. It was almost like someone was hurting you."

Katelyn, sat up, clapping a hand to her forehead as the throbbing pain subsided.

"Just another nightmare," she said sheepishly.

"You should write it down, remember?"

"Oh, right."

Her scar prickled, like it needed badly to be itched in a place that she couldn't reach, but the memory of her dream was already slipping away. She scurried to fetch her new journal from underneath her bed and set to writing. There wasn't much she could put into words. The only thing she remembered was that Dudley had been angry about something, and kept knicking her hands. She would try to get them back, but she had no hands to grab with. Then her aunt and uncle would shout at her not to hurt their precious child, and start swatting at her with brooms. However, there had been no screaming. No flash of green. Hermione must have woken her up before it could inevitably reach that part.

"Do you have another headache?" Hermione asked once she'd finished writing.

"Not as bad as yesterday. Usually they go away after a minute."

"But otherwise do you feel well?"

"Yeah … it wasn't too bad tonight. Thanks for waking me up."

"Of course. Do you think you'll be able to get back to sleep? It's four thirty-two."

"Yes … I'll try."

However, after lying there for what felt like an eternity, she still had not managed so much as a droopy eyelid. She was considering getting up to use the loo (though she didn't need to) just for something to do, when Hermione spoke up, in a faint whisper.

"Are you still awake too?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "Are you sure you want to do this? I'm keeping you awake, aren't I?"

"Be honest Katelyn, is it helping? Even just a little?"

Katelyn thought out her answer very carefully. How much should she say? She didn't want to make Hermione feel guilty, or obligated.

"You did … wake me up before the worst part …" she mumbled, both sounding and feeling very small.

"The worst part?"

"Usually I … see the same thing, right before I wake up. Or maybe it's what wakes me up, actually. Nevermind."

Hermione paused, as if to consider asking for more details, but she apparently decided against it.

"Then I'll keep at it, Katelyn. It's really not much trouble at all."

"But you're losing sleep because of me."

"Katelyn," Hermione said, more firmly, "I've said before, but I'm helping you because I want to. I'd hardly be able to sleep at all if I was leaving you to struggle with this alone."

" … Alright, sorry."

"Don't be sorry." She reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "None of this is your fault."

"I do like having you here. It's nice."

"Good." Katelyn thought she could hear Hermione's smile in her voice. "I like it too."

* * *

A week passed in relative peace. Katelyn might have even started letting herself think that things had gone back to normal, or whatever it felt like normal was supposed to be.

Alicia and Angelina stopped taunting her, besides shooting her dirty looks whenever they thought they could get away with it. Oliver was true to his word and looked to be keeping a very close eye on them. Katie Bell still hung around with the other chasers, but at least she didn't seem to despise Katelyn anymore. The upside was that, with the game against Hufflepuff only two weeks away, they were now too focused on their tactics to worry about how awkward practices had become.

Snape continued to ignore Katelyn, which was more than she could have possibly wished for. Sure, he likewise ignored any Slytherins trying to antagonize her, but at least he hadn't given Ron detention either. Hermione, however, was suspicious of his sudden change in behaviour. (' _What if he's plotting something and doesn't want to draw attention to himself?'_ she'd hissed to them at lunch one day). Katelyn doubted she could ever bring herself to reveal the truth about him. She hoped that no one ever had to find out how the 'great bat of the dungeons' had saved her life.

Though life seemed to be changing for the better, her nightmares continued unabated, and the pages of her journal slowly started to fill. Sometimes they were tame. Sometimes they were agony. But the prospect of facing another night didn't seem quite as bad with Hermione just an arm's length away. Whenever her dreams seemed too much to bear - when she started hearing those screams in the corners of her mind - she would feel a gentle tapping on her shoulder, and suddenly Hermione would be leaning over her, ready to offer her support and sympathy.

* * *

There was a Herbology exam tomorrow afternoon. Unsurprisingly Hermione had taken off to the library again after dinner. Katelyn, however, had begged off, insisting that there had to be such a thing as over-studying. Especially for Herbology. Besides, Oliver had been working them like mad this last week, and she thought she deserved a little break.

That left her alone in the common room with Ron. They'd chatted a little, gone over their homework (if only briefly), and played a few games. The common room gradually began to clear out as the sun set.

Eventually, the two ended up lounging on the good sofa in front of the fire, after two sixth-years went off to bed and left it open. Katelyn had come to greatly enjoy a crackling fire at a safe distance, but after a while, she couldn't help noticing that Ron looked gloomy. He was grumpy plenty often, but she never saw him look … melancholy.

"Is everything okay, Ron?"

The question alone seemed to be enough to lift Ron out of his sorrow, or at least enough for him to put on a more brave face.

"Of course not! I was thinking."

"What were you thinking about?"

Ron's frowned returned momentarily before he seemed to notice it too, and the sad look vanished once more. "Just that it's odd, sometimes, having two girls for best friends."

"I suppose it probably is. It's okay if you want to spend more time with the other boys, though. I understand."

"It's not because of you, Katelyn!" Ron was quick to insist. "Don't you dare say that you're … difficult to be friends with. Because that's rubbish."

She shrugged and held her palms up in a reluctant, but facetious display of surrender.

"I just figured you might say that," Ron went on. "I wish you wouldn't. Because you're not."

"Sorry."

Ron shrugged in return.

"It's okay. And I … well, I don't know if I really care to spend more time with the other guys. I like being friends with you and Hermione more."

Katelyn felt warmed by his words, but she still didn't have an answer.

"Something else is bothering you, then. You can tell me."

Ron frowned again, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to say whatever was on his mind.

"You know … if I was unhappy about something, you'd want to get to the bottom of it. I feel the same way right now. I might not sleep again until I work it out."

Ron scoffed, but his smile only lasted a moment.

"I think you'd be upset if I told you."

"I'll try not to be. But even if I do feel upset, that's not the worst thing. We can just … talk about it anyway. I want to help."

That seemed to do the trick. Ron already looked slightly less grim, once she'd put it that way.

"Promise?"

"Mhm. I promise."

He took a deep breath, as if he was bracing himself.

"I just feel like sometimes … you and Hermione are closer friends than you are with me."

"Oh, Ron," she breathed. "Why?"

Now that he'd started, the words came pouring out.

"At first I thought it was because I don't like revising all day like you two do … but you don't really seem to like it that much either, or not like Hermione anyway. And you play Quidditch! Hermione hates flying … You both have lots of differences. But even then ... I just feel like sometimes I'm … hanging on a bit. Like I'm not doing as much."

He finished rather lamely, like part of his mind was already trying to convince him otherwise. His cheeks were bright red.

"I dunno," he mumbled sheepishly. "Maybe I'm just being stupid."

"No, no of course not, Ron. You aren't stupid. It's just we … well, we're girls. We sleep in the same bed - er, bedroom. Dorm, I mean."

Ron snorted.

"Having slumber parties every night without me."

" … Yes … but what I mean is it's just … because we're closer physically - I mean … " It was suddenly Katelyn's turn to blush as she fumbled for the right words. "We just spend a bit more time together, because we're girls. That's all. Maybe Hermione was my friend first, I guess. But I like you just as much."

"I wish I could help you with your nightmares too."

She nodded. Ron was reading between the lines.

"I know you do. Well, I'll tell you a secret … I actually liked you a lot more than Hermione, when I first met you."

"Really? Why?"

"Well, because you weren't so nosy."

Ron laughed.

"I suppose I wasn't, was I? I just figured you were a bit odd and sad … I didn't really know what to do about it, so I just tried to be nice to you, I guess."

She felt another surge of warmth and happiness at his words, but she still felt like something was missing.

"You were," she said fondly. "You were really nice to me."

"It was the least I could do, Katelyn."

"But you did. You and Hermione."

"Well, I like being friends with you. Don't mention it, alright?"

"I'll try."

She spent a while thinking about what he'd revealed to her. She wanted nothing more than for Ron to feel like he was appreciated too. Only, she didn't really know how. Surely it would be odd if she just outright said it.

Another idea occurred to her, then. Maybe it was because he was a boy, and she was supposed to find them gross or obnoxious, but realized that she never hugged Ron as often as she did Hermione. Would a boy ever complain that he didn't get as many hugs? That seemed terribly unfair.

In what was certainly a very bold move for Katelyn Potter, she moved down the length of the sofa until she was right up against Ron, and she leaned her head right on his shoulder.

"Thanks for being my friend, Ron."

Ron was silent for a moment, before he surprised her by draping an arm over her shoulder and pulling her in a little more snugly.

"Likewise," he said happily.

From that moment, the air was delightfully clear. The two remained there, savouring each others company, aimlessly chatting away until very, very late. Katelyn wouldn't remember falling asleep, nestled into Ron's side, a gentle grin settled upon her face.

* * *

"Ron, is everything alright?"

"Sheesh, Hermione," he whispered. "I nearly thought you were going to be out past curfew."

"Well, we've officially run out of places to look. All of the books about him simply _must_ be in the restricted section - but nevermind that. What's wrong with Katelyn?"

He glanced down at Katelyn, still fast asleep under his arm.

"There's nothing wrong with her. She's sleeping."

"Well, I can see that, Ron. I mean what's … "

She gestured at the two of them. Ron still had his head cocked in confusion.

"You're … cuddling," she said slowly.

"Oh! It's nothing like that Hermione," he denied quickly. "We used to do this with Ginny all the time. Well … Bill and Charlie usually, but I've done too, when she wasn't being insufferable anyway. Why are you smiling like that?"

"You two are just rather cute, is all."

"Are not!"

He froze as Katelyn stirred slightly.

"Are not," he repeated, much more quietly now. "Besides, she came up to me first. Leaned on me like a pillow. Honest!"

He glowered as Hermione carefully sat on the remaining bit of sofa on Katelyn's end, looking rather pleased with herself.

"As I was saying," she whispered. "I can't think of anywhere else to look. Are you sure we can't just ask Madam Pince, or one of the professors?"

"You saw the way Hagrid looked when we mentioned him."

"Which means there's really no one left to ask."

"And your parents couldn't ask anyone else?"

"They looked for nearly a week and didn't find a thing. If I kept up about it they would surely suspect something is wrong. The only other place we haven't tried the restricted section. There's just no good reason for us to be looking there."

"Then we just ask -"

"We are not asking for the cloak, Ron. That's final! What would happen if we lost it? How would we even ask? It's not as if we could explain it to her. "

"E … explain … what?"

Ron and Hermione nearly jumped as Katelyn stirred again beneath Ron's arm.

"Just bickering," Ron said. "Sorry, we didn't mean to wake you."

Katelyn sat up slightly, blinking sleep from her eyes.

"That's okay," she said softly.

Hermione's jaw trembled slightly as Katelyn's gentle, dozy smile fell upon her.

"Hermione, you're back," she said happily. "Are you done studying already?"

The bushy-haired bookworm of Gryffindor knew that she would do anything to protect that tender, precious happiness.

"It's past curfew, silly."

"Oh, sorry. I fell asleep."

Hermione couldn't help a giggle.

"I can see that."

"What were you arguing about?"

The two exchanged a nervous glance, unnoticed by the drowsy Katelyn.

"It was really nothing Katelyn. Ron was just nagging me about my study habits … while I think he should try taking an exam seriously for once."

"Forget I asked," Katelyn teased, stifling a small yawn with her hand.

"We'd best get to bed," said Ron with a soft chuckle, withdrawing his arm back to his side. "I reckon Percy'll come stomping down at any moment and give us an earful."

"Oh, you're right Ron," said Hermione. "Ready, Katelyn?"

Neither of them missed the way her smile dropped slightly.

"Yes, ready," she said, clumsily pushing herself up from the sofa.

Hermione placed a gentle hand on Katelyn's back and steered her towards the staircase, sharing a wistful smile with Ron as they went.

"Goodnight Ron," Katelyn said, sounding a little less cheerful.

Once they were in bed, underneath their shared canopy, Katelyn spoke once more.

"He thinks we're better friends, you know."

"Ron? What do you mean?"

"I had to coax it out of him, but told me that he feels like we're closer with each other than with him."

"Oh no … what did you say to him?"

"I told him that I like him way better than you."

"Katelyn!" Hermione giggled, gently batting her on the arm. "Well, let's keep an eye on him, okay. We'll make sure he doesn't feel left out. Oh, and was that why you two were snuggling when I came back?"

"It was all I could think of at the time," she answered sheepishly. " … but I really liked it."

"That's good Katelyn. I suppose your uh … you know … they didn't really give you a lot of physical affection, did they."

Katelyn was silent for a moment.

"No. Not that I could ever remember."

"Well, you're welcome to a hug whenever you like Katelyn."

There was another long silence. Just the gentle sound of wind outside as it swirled about, carrying the last remains of winter on the breeze.

"Can - … er, nevermind."

"Were you going to ask me if you could have a hug right now?"

" … yes."

"Well come here, then."


	18. Chapter 18

Katelyn was confused. So, very confused. That nagging little voice in her head saying that her good fortune wasn't fated to last had been proven right.

She was on her way back to the common room after a relatively peaceful Quidditch practice, which had become anything but when Oliver broke the news to the team that Snape was refereeing in the upcoming game against Hufflepuff.

Why he would want to do it was so utterly beyond her imagining. He'd saved her life. She told herself that nearly every day for some reason or another. Yet here he was, putting himself about as close to her as he could get when the entire school was watching.

Maybe there was some completely odd reason that he could only try to kill her during Quidditch games. Some deep-seated desire to see her plummet to her death. Perhaps he wanted her to die in a humiliating, public fashion, and her passing alone in a dungeon wouldn't suffice. It didn't explain, however why he'd stopped being overtly mean to her. Was he now trying to protect her? Then why had he cursed her broom the first time around?

She shook her head, frowning at her own train of thought veering wildly off course. Nothing made any sense, least of all the explanations she was coming up with. Deep down, she wasn't sure that Snape really did want to hurt her. But Hermione and Ron both seemed convinced otherwise.

The only upside to the sudden change was that the team was getting along a bit better, now that they had a common enemy. Alicia and Angelina had been too upset over the news to give Katelyn any grief. They all thought that he was doing it to give an unfair advantage to Hufflepuff, something Katelyn dearly wished she could believe, knowing what she knew.

When she returned to the common room, she wasted no time informing Hermione and Ron, hoping that they could put her mind at ease.

"Don't play," Hermione said without a second thought.

"You could talk to Madam Pomfrey," suggested Ron. "Maybe she'd make up an excuse for you."

"Or Professor McGonagall. I'm sure she would understand."

"I can't. There's no reserve. We wouldn't be able to play."

"What's more important, Katelyn? The house cup or your _life?_ "

"What if you die _and_ still lose?" said Ron.

"That's not funny, Ron! This is serious!"

"Well, I thought it was a little funny," Katelyn said sheepishly, giving Ron a quick smile.

Ron beamed at the affirmation, while Hermione gave Katelyn a look that suggested she was both annoyed and pleased at once. Lately, she seemed particularly happy whenever Katelyn and Ron did anything together, and both girls had been trying to include him whenever they could.

Hermione had just opened her mouth to scold them when Neville Longbottom toppled through the portrait hole, landing face first. His legs were stuck together, from what looked like a leg-locker curse. He looked sweaty and dishevelled, as if he'd hobbled all the way up to the common room.

Everyone in the common room fell over themselves laughing at his spectacular entry, save for Katelyn and Hermione. Thankfully, Hermione knew the counter-curse and performed it at once.

"What happened, Neville?" Hermione asked, leading him over to sit with them as the laughter died down.

"It … it was Malfoy," he said shakily, still panting for breath. "He caught me outside the library. Said he'd been looking for someone to practice on."

"We can go talk to Professor McGonagall," Hermione urged. "You should report him."

"I don't want to cause trouble!" he said, shaking his head. "It'll only get worse."

Katelyn had a startling moment of clarity, as she could almost hear the exact same words coming out of her own mouth, not that long ago. Sure, Neville annoyed her. Always looking at her as if he wanted to be friendly, but too afraid to say so. Much like the Weasley twins … but she supposed they had confidence, and friends, on their side. Neville wasn't so lucky, even if he wasn't outright despised like Katelyn was. Truthfully, she'd been thinking about Neville more often lately. Maybe he wasn't all that bad.

She shared a glance with Hermione, and it appeared they were both thinking along a similar track. Katelyn tuned back into the conversation to hear Neville dejectedly responding to Ron's attempts at encouragement.

"There's no need to tell me that I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor," he was saying, hanging his head. "Malfoy's already done that."

He looked to be on the verge of tears, and she couldn't help but remember Healer Burch's words, about how forgiving usually feels better. It was hard to hold his inaction against him knowing that he was also a victim of Malfoy's cruelty. ' _The enemy of my enemy is my friend'_ , or something like that.

"Don't bother yourself about that bravery stuff, Neville," she told him, trying her best to sound properly reassuring. "I don't think of myself as particularly courageous either, but here we are."

As luck would have it, she still had an old chocolate frog in her pocket from Christmas, which she'd been meaning to throw out all of last week. She fished around in the pocket of her robes to retrieve it, holding it out to him.

"Here."

He looked utterly surprised at the act of kindness, and gingerly took it from her hands as if afraid that she would snap at him.

"Thanks," he said, still slightly awestruck as he unwrapped the frog.

"Don't mention it. You're easily worth a dozen Malfoys," she said. "Wait, Hermione, what's a dozen times zero?"

"It's still zero."

"See?" she said to Neville. "That makes you infinitely better than Malfoy. Right?"

Neville looked slightly confused at first (she resolved to work on her awkward compliments at a later date), but nonetheless, his frown slowly lifted into a weak smile.

"Thanks, Katelyn. You know … I'm sorry that I never uh … "

"Never what?"

He gulped.

"I'm sorry that I never stood up for you. I still think about it … when you chased Malfoy to get my Remembrall back. And I don't think I ever thanked you."

"Oh … I did do that, didn't I?" Truthfully, she still had an occasional flashback of everyone laughing at her when McGonagall had dragged her off by the ear, but she hardly spared a thought for the Remembrall. "Well, don't mention it. I wouldn't have stood up for me, either."

"Katelyn, you shouldn't say things like that," Hermione said gently. "Remember what we've been talking about?"

"Oh, I know, sorry. I just mean that it wouldn't have been easy to do, when nobody else was standing up for me. I don't blame you, Neville."

She extended a hand. Neville's palm was warm and a bit sweaty, but they shook, and it seemed like they both felt better for it.

Before long, the four were discussing their homework, though it was mostly helping Neville and Ron catch up rather than a proper discussion. A fair half hour passed, and despite doing little more than studying, everyone was in much better spirits by the time curfew was beginning to draw near.

"I think I'm gonna go to bed early. Katelyn, d'you reckon you'd want the card?" Neville said, getting up and brushing himself off, now that his transfiguration homework was finally done. "I've already got Dumbledore."

She took the small, glittery chocolate frog card, turning it over in her hand. A small, magical portrait of the headmaster looked back at her, smiling brightly. He gave her a wink and a small bow, and she couldn't help smile back.

"Thanks, Neville. Goodnight."

She flipped over the card and saw a very brief biography, which read:

 _ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

 _CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS_

 _Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling._

"Oh … hey," she said, "Is this the Flamel you've been talking about?"

Hermione and Ron jumped slightly at the mention of his name. They both looked at the card with wide eyes, before exchanging a frantic glance with one another.

Katelyn was both amused and confused at once.

"Well, whatever it's about, I trust you both. Here."

She handed the card to Hermione, who still seemed slightly stiff from nerves as she read. She slapped a palm to her forehead when she finished just a moment later, and she appeared to mouth ' _Dumbledore!'_.

"Oh of course," she muttered, before handing the card to Ron.

Hermione turned to Katelyn, her expression suddenly becoming sombre. "I'm really sorry Katelyn. We both want to tell you … but we agreed it's for the best that you don't know."

"Is it really serious?"

Ron gasped as he read the card. The two exchanged another glance before nodding in unison.

"Dead serious," Ron said, a bit darkly.

"Is there anything I can do to help? You've both done so much for me."

Hermione shook her head.

"We don't want you to get caught up in it. You have enough to worry about."

"Well, I'm going to be worried about both of you now anyway. You're not in trouble, are you?"

"Not yet," said Ron.

Hermione looked a touch scandalized, but she didn't say anything more.

"Okay …Well, I don't really like it, but okay. Just promise you'll tell me if I can help."

"We promise," they said in unison.

* * *

In the two weeks leading up to the game, Katelyn noticed her friends spending a lot of time in the library, working on their 'project' together. There was plenty of opportunity for it now that Oliver had doubled Quidditch practices. It made her a bit sad not to be involved, but she wanted to respect their needs as much as they respected hers (this was partially Miranda, her therapist, talking). It was hard, trusting, but she was doing her best. Besides, she figured it was probably good to take a little time for herself, too, since the three had spent just about every spare moment together for months now.

Well, she'd thought as much until she realized that she kept bumping into Snape in the corridors, anyway. The first time, as she walked to lunch by herself, she hadn't thought anything of it. But now, after three or four encounters, it was starting to worry her. It seemed like it mostly happened when she was alone. She desperately wanted to mention it to her friends, but what if she was just being paranoid? They'd probably drop their research at once and insist on sticking to her side at all times, so she'd kept quiet. Surely he wouldn't try anything in the middle of a corridor during a school day.

However, it wasn't just the stress of a professor potentially being out to kill her that was weighing on her mind. She would still have to actually play Quidditch, something that had not become less nerve-wracking for having done it once. In fact, it was just as bad, if not worse, now that she'd managed to catch the snitch and win a game. Now that it was established that she _could_ , it would be expected of her. It would be far more disappointing for her to fail now, compared to when everyone had assumed she would be rubbish at it.

On top of worrying about Snape and Quidditch, she still had to attend class, study, do her homework, and attend therapy. It was hard to be so busy and so worried at once, but it did mean she had less time to feel sad. As a plus, all of the extra press-ups and chin-ups she'd been doing in secret (in case she wound up dangling from her broom again) served as a rather good outlet for her anxieties.

She was bustling to the library to meet Hermione and Ron before lunch when she was startled by the soft rustling of robes somewhere behind her. She whipped around to find, not Snape, but Albus stepping out into the corridor.

"Oh, dear," he said mildly, "I hope I haven't frightened you, Katelyn."

"No, I er - I was just distracted," she said with a sigh of relief. "I'm fine. How are you, Professor?"

"I'm very well, thank you. Just going about my mysterious old wizardly ways."

"In an empty classroom?"

"Argus told me he suspects a bat infestation. Perhaps some strays that escaped the Halloween festivities have taken up residence. I regret to report that our culprits seem to have escaped my grasp for the time being."

As he said this, a single bat fluttered through the open doorway behind him and out into the hallway, where it promptly disappeared up a nearby staircase, and she had to suppress a grin.

"However, I suppose it is fortunate that I've stumbled upon you. How are you feeling, lately, my dear? If you don't mind me asking."

"Good," she said in a way that was not entirely convincing. Dumbledore seemed to pick up on it, so she went on. "Well, I … I'm nervous about the game next weekend. But a normal amount of nervous, I think. I hope."

"Well, I am eternally grateful to have your confidence in such a matter, my dear," he said with a twinkly smile. "If you decide that playing will be too much for you at this time in your life, you have my full support, and I will ensure that you receive no grief for it. However, I think it is indeed very normal to feel nervous. In fact, I recall a young Oliver Wood, before his very first game, had to make a brief visit to the hospital wing."

Dumbledore chuckled softly, eyes cast slightly upwards in fond recollection.

"You see, in his nervous state, he quaffed the better portion of a fellow student's inkwell instead of his own glass of pumpkin juice by mistake. Poppy told me afterwards that she nearly had to use a body bind spell to keep him sitting still long enough to treat, so timorous was he."

It would have been hard to imagine, if she hadn't seen him in a similar state just a few days prior, albeit for an entirely different reason.

"Now, I do have another matter to broach with you. If you don't mind terribly … Minerva has quite recently found herself beleaguered by what she says may just be the worst essays she's ever seen from her sixth-years, and she asked that I might bring you to your appointment after classes tomorrow instead. Would that be alright with you?"

"I don't mind at all."

Though Professor McGonagall had quickly become Katelyn's second favourite adult (after Hagrid), Dumbledore accompanying her to therapy sessions was an entirely different affair. With McGonagall, they would typically get dinner at the Leaky Cauldron, or a visit muggle tea shop. Not that Katelyn wasn't very grateful, of course, but so far Dumbledore had taken her to an amusement park for hot dogs and cotton candy, a five star restaurant in London (where they'd eaten almost nothing but shrimp), and he'd even promised that, if she did well on her final exams, he would side-along apparate her all the way to Italy for authentic pizza and seafood.

So far, she'd opted not to mention this to her friends, lest they feel like they were missing out. Ron would be especially jealous that she'd seen the great Albus Dumbledore playing miniature golf (and nearly falling into a fountain while doing so, for that matter).

It was nice to have something special, just for her.

She was still daydreaming about the streets of Florence when she finally caught up with Hermione and Ron, just as they were packing up their bags.

"How is your research coming along?" she asked, aiming to sound appropriately disinterested, lest they worry.

"Good!" Hermione said enthusiastically.

"Better than good," Ron added with a sigh of relief. "We've finally worked it out."

"You're done?"

"For now, at least," said Hermione, "Who knows how long it'll be, but there's nothing else we can do for the moment."

Needless to say, Katelyn was well and properly confused, but she was just happy that they were happy. And it was one less thing to worry about, which, with so much on her mind, was not a bad thing at all.

They went down for lunch, and, despite the stress and anxiety, Katelyn managed to eat a healthy portion with minimal prodding from Hermione.

* * *

"And how have your nightmares been, Katelyn? Have you been to see Professor McGonagall again?"

"They've been a little better, I guess. And no, not for a while."

"Well, sometimes no news is good news. Are you keeping up with your dream journal?"

"Yes, I brought it with."

"Very good. Why don't we have a look? Do you think you've noticed any patterns yet?"

"Sort of. I think I usually have some normal dreams for a bit before they start showing up and yelling at me or chasing me, but I … oh gosh, it's a little embarrassing … "

"All the more reason for you to share it now, don't you think?"

"Oh … right, yes. Of course. Well, er … Hermione and I put our four-posters together, so it's like we're sharing one big bed. She's been waking me up when I start having the really bad nightmares, because I guess I start … moving around a little bit, and stuff, so usually I'll wake her up. I still have them, but … well, it's a lot better this way."

"How interesting. Whose idea was the arrangement?"

"Well, I suppose it was Ron's, actually. But Hermione said it was a good idea too. She insisted on at least trying it."

"I can't say I'm entirely surprised. She's been incredibly supportive of you."

"I know. She even checked through the school rules to make sure it was allowed."

"Now, if Hermione is okay with it, why do you feel embarrassed?"

"W-well, isn't it - it's not ... weird is it? That I'm sharing a bed with her?"

"I don't think so, no. The term 'weird' is subjective, of course, but I certainly don't believe it's unhealthy, as long as Hermione is doing it of her own free will, and her own health isn't being negatively affected."

"She promised me that she'd tell me if she was losing too much sleep because of it."

"Then I don't believe you have anything to worry about."

"And you really don't think it's … I dunno, childish?"

"Well, firstly, don't forget that you are still a child, Katelyn, and nothing you've gone through means that you have to forfeit the right to be a child. You deserve a chance to have that experience too. But you've made it quite clear that you aren't just goofing around, being irresponsible and staying up late chatting. That sounds quite mature to me."

"When you put it like that, it does sound a bit better."

"Good. Although I do think you should mention it to Professor McGonagall, just in case she has any concerns."

"Okay, I will."

"So Katelyn, you said earlier that you've been feeling nervous lately. And stressed out, too, perhaps? About what?"

"Well, lots of things, I guess. Hermione and Ron were working on something together all of last week. They said they're done, but I keep worrying that it was about me. Oh, and I have transfiguration test tomorrow and lots of homework … and then there's the game against Hufflepuff next weekend."

"We can come back to all of those things in a minute, but you still have that look about you, Katelyn. Yes, that one. Are you sure there's nothing else you didn't mention?"

"Er … well … I might think a professor is maybe trying to kill me, a little bit … and they're refereeing during the game, which is how I almost died last time."

"Oh, Katelyn … "

"I know it sounds a little crazy. Or … or really, _really_ crazy."

"It's okay, just take a few deep breaths. Maybe you should explain a bit further before I weigh in. It seems like there's a lot to unpack here."

"Right. Here goes … "

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was not in a stellar mood. It had been a rough week. Just yesterday, her sixth-year students had turned in some of the worst essays she'd ever seen. Sure, they were between OWL and NEWT exam years, but that wasn't an excuse to slack off. It was especially vexing when she'd seen perfectly sufficient spellwork inside the classroom. Her human transfiguration curriculum was well on track, save for this significant black mark.

So not only were her students underperforming in the written portion, but now she had a double workload, since, out of the kindness of her heart, she'd offered, carte blanche, the opportunity to fix and resubmit their work - only this once, mind you, because she couldn't rule it out as a failing of her own instruction (however unlikely that may be).

Besides the extra papers, she still had obligations to her fifth and seventh years, who did very much need to prepare for their OWL and NEWT exams, respectively. Not to forget that she couldn't afford to neglect her younger students as well. If that weren't enough, Pomona had been talking up her Badgers all week, lauding their chances to give Gryffindor a solid walloping at the game in little more than a week's time.

The one bit of good news was that Katelyn hadn't been to see her in some time, and judging by her behaviour in class, she seemed to be feeling much better. It had been a very, very long and difficult road, but Minerva was heartened to see an occasional smile appear on the girl's face during lessons, even if it was only because Ronald Weasley was distracting her.

 _Knock knock._

"Professor McGonagall?" squeaked the voice of Katelyn Potter outside the door.

"Come in, dear," Minerva said, setting down her quill and trying to reign in her incredulous expression. She couldn't deny that her timing was uncanny.

Katelyn slowly stepped inside, clearly quite anxious about something.

"Please, have a seat. What brings you to my office, Katelyn?"

She found herself doubting her own ability to sound calming and welcoming, as she often did. Sometimes it took quite a bit of concentration to ensure that she didn't scare the poor child with her usual rigid mannerisms.

"I uh … I just have to tell you something, if t-that's okay."

"Of course. My ears are open, dear."

Katelyn squirmed in her chair, and once more Minerva couldn't help worrying that she was not succeeding in her efforts to be inviting.

"I … er… "

"Take your time."

The child's anxiety level seemed to be growing as she continued to try and bring herself to share whatever information she had come to share.

"Is it serious, Katelyn? Is this something that you've done or something that's happened to you?"

Her mouth opened and closed a few times. Watching the girl squirm, Minerva's imagination supplied the sound of a tea kettle just shy of boiling over.

"I just uh …"

Then like a dam bursting, she finally forced out the words.

"HermioneandIpushedourbedstogetherandIjustwanttomakesurethatwasokay and uh …"

"Goodness, child, slow down a tidge, won't you? I could barely understand a word."

"S-sorry," she said, pausing to take a great big breath. "Hermione and I put our beds together, and uh … I wanted to make sure that was okay. She wakes me up if I start squirming around, when I'm having a bad dream. That … that was it."

Minerva noticed that as Katelyn spoke she looked … disappointed with herself, as though revealing this information was not what she'd wanted at all.

"Well, I must admit, Katelyn, I feel like I've not entirely redeemed myself in your eyes if telling me this caused you such distress."

"Sorry," the young girl mumbled feebly.

"Normally I would be opposed, but due to your circumstances, I will, of course, allow it. I trust you and Hermione to treat the privilege with respect. As long as it affects neither Hermione's academics nor wellbeing, and does not distract your dorm mates from getting a good night's sleep, I see no issue."

"Thank you, professor," Katelyn exhaled, already getting up and making for the door.

"Miss Potter," Minerva called out, causing Katelyn to start ever-so-slightly. "You're quite sure there was nothing else on your mind?"

Katelyn turned back for just a moment, her vivid green eyes darting to the floor.

" ... No, professor."

"Alright, then. I am glad you came to see me today, and I hope you will continue to do so if you feel the need."

"Thank you."

And with that, Katelyn Potter slipped through the door and into the hall.

Minerva had a sinking feeling that there was more to the story. Perhaps she would need to keep a closer eye on Katelyn after all. Maybe even mention it to Poppy and Albus next she saw them. But for now, she still had to attend her other obligations. So, with a long-suffering sigh, she set back to grading the second round of essays.

* * *

"Katelyn, Katelyn! Wake up!"

Katelyn's eyes flew open. It felt like her body was being wrenched from below the surface of a dark, stormy sea and out into the open air.

"Katelyn, it's okay, relax! Relax … "

She screwed her eyes shut as the burning of her scar clawed through her senses. Behind her eyelids, she could see the tortured faces of her parents, bathed in vile green light.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione was whispering rather frantically, "I - I didn't wake up in time - I -"

Katelyn couldn't focus on the words for long with the pain thrumming inside of her skull. She thought she might have muttered 'it's okay ' once or twice but there was no way to be certain. Her ears were full of the trailing echoes of screams, laughter, and rushing wind.

By the time she had fully regained her senses, she was kneeling in front of the toilet. Hermione was rubbing her back, asking her if she wanted to see McGonagall.

"I'm sorry … " she muttered, feeling the familiar wash of shame enveloping her. "Sorry … "

Hermione helped her stand up and walk to the sink, where she rinsed out her mouth and splashed cold water across her face until she could think straight. It was Sunday. The game against Hufflepuff. The stress must be was why her nightmare was so severe.

"Katelyn … I'm so sorry I didn't wake you," Hermione said, voice slightly shaky. "I don't know why I didn't catch it. I must have just been too tired, or - "

"Don't apologize. It's okay. I'm okay."

She turned on the spot and gave Hermione a hug.

"Without you, I'd be doing all this alone."

"I just feel like I let you down."

Katelyn shook her head against Hermione's shoulder, hugging her a bit tighter.

"No, no. Not even a little."

She held her friend for a little while longer, hoping the embrace would wash away her own guilt and sadness. Eventually, her headache began to subside, and the nausea likewise started slowly draining away.

"It's not your fault, Hermione," she insisted in a half whisper as they finally parted. "You've already done so much more than I could ever have asked for."

"Well, alright," Hermione relented after a moment, though the guilty tone hadn't entirely left her voice. "Are you still hurting? Should we go see Madam Pomfrey?"

" … No, no. I'm okay. I already feel better."

As she said this, a small wave of nausea warbled up from her stomach, and she leaned upon the basin until it passed. She could almost sense Hermione's doubts.

"M-maybe I should drink some water, I think."

"Okay, let's go sit down and we'll see how you feel."

When they stepped back into the dorm, they were confronted by Lavender and Parvati, both in their pyjamas, sitting wide awake on the end of Lavender's bed.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Hermione said uncomfortably. "Did we wake you?"

"Is something wrong with Katelyn?" Parvati asked pointedly. "Is she still sick?"

The two shared a glance. Hermione questioning, Katelyn pleading.

"Katelyn is uh … oh, it's complicated. She's not … _sick_ … necessarily."

"Is it contagious?"

"No, not at all. I … we can't really explain it properly. It's uh … confidential."

"It's not just your first menses, is it?"

Both Katelyn and Hermione blanched.

"No-no. Goodness, no." Hermione said, blinking widely. "As I said, we can't explain. But we don't mean to disturb your sleep. We can go talk to Professor McGonagall and see if we can't arrange something else. M-maybe she can cast a silencing charm or - "

"You've been sick for a while, haven't you?" Parvati cut in, now looking directly at Katelyn.

" … Yes," she answered meekly. "Sorry."

"But it's not dragon pox anymore, is it?"

"No. I … I don't want to talk about it. Please."

Parvati sighed.

"Sure. Fine."

"I'm going back to bed," said Lavender, who'd been silent up to this point. She sounded annoyed, and Katelyn felt herself cringe with guilt. What a nuisance she must for them.

"Are you at least getting better?" Parvati asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"M-maybe. I don't really know sometimes."

Hermione reached over and put a hand on her back, gently brushing her fingers back and forth. Katelyn hadn't realized just how tense she'd been until her shoulders relaxed in reaction to Hermione's touch.

"I think she is," said Hermione. "It's slow progress, but it's progress."

"Hmph," said Parvati, rolling her eyes. Katelyn thought there might have been the slightest hint of a smile, as if she wasn't really annoyed like Lavender had been. "Well, I'm going back to bed too. Just go see Pomfrey if you're going to keep needing to wake up for a vom in the middle of the night, okay? And shut the door, will you? I'm starting to smell it."

"O-oh, sorry," Katelyn said, blushing heavily as she snapped the door shut behind her. "And I will."

It was just shy of two in the morning, so after Hermione coaxed Katelyn into drinking some water, they bedded back down to try for a few more hours rest.

Sleep would prove much more difficult than either girl hoped, however. After what felt like an hour passed, Katelyn was still awake, trying not to imagine all of the horrible things that could happen during the game (and failing spectacularly). In her mind's eye, she could see Snape flying about, a smug grin on his face as she plummeted to the ground amongst the cheering of the crowd.

Eventually, she gave it up as a bad job. She opened her eyes, and turned her head to see that Hermione was wide awake as well.

"Hermione," she whispered.

Her friend made a tiny breath of surprise.

"You don't still feel bad, do you?" Katelyn whispered.

"I'm trying not to."

"You shouldn't. You're just trying your best … and because you're a good friend. You never had to do any of this, you know? You still don't."

Hermione shrugged.

"I suppose so," she whispered back. "But it doesn't mean that it's any easier to see you like that."

"Sorry."

"Hey now, if I can't feel a little guilty, then neither can you," Hermione said teasingly. "It's certainly not your fault, all of the awful things that have happened."

Katelyn supposed she couldn't argue with her, even if she still wanted to, just a little.

"Okay, then neither of us will feel bad, if it's nobody's fault."

"Well," Hermione said lowly, her voice becoming slightly bitter. "It's someone's fault."

"Oh ... right. Well, it's still not ours. So no more feeling guilty. Deal?"

"Deal."

And with that, Katelyn finally managed to drift back to sleep. Perhaps due to the brief heart-to-heart with Hermione, the Quidditch-induced nightmares didn't return, and she slept peacefully.

Her bushy-haired best friend woke her up again after a precious few hours of rest.

"Katelyn … Katelyn, you should wake up," she said, gently nudging her shoulder.

"H-hmm...what?" she mumbled, slowly blinking herself awake and turning to take in her friend, who looked about as groggy as she herself felt. "Was I having another nightmare?"

"No, it's just time to get up for breakfast. You actually looked quite peaceful," Hermione said, her expression brightening. "Though come to think, it's best you fill out your journal. Can you still remember your nightmare?"

"No, not really."

"Well, you should still write down that you had one, at least."

"Right."

After the incredibly brief entry was complete, the two went down to the common room, where Ron was waiting for them at their usual study table. Recently, Katelyn had realized just how happy it made her, having this little part of her morning routine to look forward to.

He stood to greet them, and she hugged him before he even got the chance to ask.

"We had a bit of a rough night," Hermione said, answering the questioning look that (unbeknownst to Katelyn) Ron was giving over her shoulder. "But everything's okay now."

When they parted, Ron gave Katelyn 'the look' as well.

"I'm fine," she confirmed. "Just a little stressed out."

"Big day ahead," he said knowingly. "Well, you should probably have something to eat then. You'll need your strength, yeah?"

"Right."

They were on the last staircase before the Great Hall when one of Katelyn's least favourite voices rang out behind her.

"Potter!" called out Draco Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle as he came up the dungeon stairs behind them. "Ready to get proper clobbered by Hufflepuff today?"

"Oh sod off," groaned Ron.

"Manners, Weasley. I'd hate for that foul tongue of yours to get your dad in trouble at work."

Katelyn rounded on him, bristling.

"Merlin, Potter!" Malfoy said with a gleeful snort. "You look like a soggy bit of parchment. I was going to ask how you planned to top your act from last time but, I doubt you'll even make it onto the field at this rate."

"At least she's made it onto the field at all, unlike you," Ron said with a snarl. "Made up any good stories about flying 'round your back garden on a training broom lately?"

Hermione immediately began ushering Katelyn away as Ron exchanged a few choice insults with the snobby Slytherin.

"You don't look that bad," she said reassuringly. "Just a bit peaky."

Five minutes later, Katelyn had mostly forgotten about the encounter, as she was locked in combat with her plate, forcing herself to chew through some eggs despite her stomachs protests.

"Just think, it's better to try and get something down and puke it up later than to not try at all," Ron said, trying to keep the mood light.

"What a lovely thought," Hermione said with a grimace, her nose curling slightly as she finished up her own breakfast.

All things considered, Katelyn thought she was doing pretty well. She'd eaten _some_ food, and on the morning of a quidditch match, no less. A match where one of her professors might just make a second attempt to kill her.

She forced herself to remember Healer Burch's words:

' _Well, I think the probability is pretty low. Albus Dumbledore is a very smart man, and he's very, very good at judging character. So it's a slim chance that he would hire someone that he doesn't trust to keep the students safe, let alone outright attack one. I would never try to discount your feelings about it, but from what you've told me, it's very possible that it was simply a malfunction with the broom. And just a coincidence that it stopped acting up when your friends, uh … distracted … Professor Snape. You could be right, of course, but just consider the possibility. And don't forget, it's not entirely implausible that he wants a bit of a cheeky leg up in the game. I knew him to be incredibly competitive when it came to Quidditch.'_

Katelyn hadn't been particularly successful following the recommendation that she bring her concerns to Professor McGonagall, but she was trying very hard to convince herself that Healer Burch's logic was sound. It didn't help that she still had to win, or Gryffindor would likely revert back to outright despising her like they had before she'd nearly swallowed the Snitch. She could tell that it wasn't forgotten, since she noticed quite a few heads had turned her way as she'd entered the hall, and a few stray glances would drift her way every now and again.

She wasn't particularly surprised when Oliver swooped into the seat across from her.

"Hey," he said simply, looking very much like he was studying her.

Katelyn tried to put on her bravest face, and it seemed to work, as Oliver's own expression lightened.

"How are you feeling, Katelyn? Ready to take on Hufflepuff?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," she said with an attempt at a nonchalant shrug.

"Just remember, it's okay to be nervous. You'll do great, I'm sure of it. But I'm really glad you're on the team, no matter how it goes. Not that it wouldn't be nice to clobber Hufflepuff, though - O'Flaherty and I have a bet on."

She realized that he was kidding, probably, and she tried to smile.

"I'll do my best," she said.

"I know you will. If you need anything, come find me. Otherwise, I'll see you at ten-thirty sharp."

With a last grin, Oliver went back to sit with his year mates. Katelyn took another look about the room and saw yet more roving eyes coming to settle upon her. It was always unnerving. She hated being the centre of attention. Especially since it was never for anything good.

However … as she glanced about again … something was different. There were very few smiles … no sniggering or eye rolling. No joking or laughing. No, as she tried to covertly rake her eyes across the Ravenclaw table, she saw … concern? Had someone else worked out that she might very well be murdered in midair at the match, just like last time?

Then she heard it.

It sounded so far away, yet carried, cut through the din like it was being whispered directly into her ear.

" _Oh Merlin, that's terrible!"_

" _Katelyn Potter? But … why would she do it?"_

" _No one knows."_

" _I always thought she wasn't very well liked but …"_

" _I mean, I thought she was a right snob too, but now I just feel awful."_

She looked to Ron and Hermione, but they were having their own hushed conversation, heads leaned together. She couldn't work out who was doing the talking. The faces across the tables started blurring together. Everything started blurring together. A lead weight settled in her stomach.

" _Do you remember when they made those dreadful posters for the match against Slytherin?"_

" _Is that why she was gone for so long?"_

" _I heard she's seeing a shrink now."_

Katelyn shot to her feet, and her world began swaying and swirling around. The room was shrinking around her, getting hotter and hotter by the second. She had to …

Katelyn didn't know what to do. She wanted out. Through the doors - where could she go? - where ... she was running down the stairs - around a corner - she couldn't - breathe -

"Katelyn, wait!"

She sank against the nearest wall, collapsing, shuddering as a tapestry brushed against her shoulder. Her hands were shaking - she was suffocating, drowning in her robes -

"Katelyn, it's okay. You have to breathe."

Breathe - breathe …

"C'mon, deep breaths Katelyn. Breathe in."

She just managed to do as her friend instructed, forcing her shuddering lungs open.

"There you go, breathe out, slowly, slowly …"

Her chest felt as if it was about to collapse under the effort, but she did. Out. Out…

"Okay, breathe in …"

She did as instructed. Hermione kept at it, coaching her breaths, one at a time. After a minute or so, she finally remembered how to breathe on her own, as her sense returned. She just felt tired, now. Tired and sick, and ashamed.

"Are you feeling better?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Yeah, s-sorry," she mumbled.

"Here, let's go find a washroom, you're sweating."

Hermione took her by the hands and helped her to her feet, before reaching to brush a tear from her cheek.

"Er, this way, then. It's not far."

As they turned to go, Ron hurdled around the corner, panting for breath.

"Katelyn! There you are! What's happened?"

"Let's not talk here, Ron," Hermione said, sparing Katelyn, who was still scrambling to piece her thoughts, and herself, together.

Though it was only a short distance down a hallway or two, Katelyn was exhausted once they reached the girl's bathroom. She slumped down by the sinks, and Hermione joined her, while Ron, after a moment's hesitation, came in and sat opposite them.

"Katelyn," Hermione said softly. "What happened?"

"They know."

"They know what?"

"About me. What happened. I … I heard."

"Who knows?"

"I - I didn't see … but I heard them, talking about … about how I … tried to … you know … "

Hermione gaped at her as she finally understood, while Ron gasped audibly.

"Oh my God, no … I'm so sorry Katelyn. Are - are you sure?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding weakly, "People were staring this morning, too. I thought it was just about the game … but then I overheard them ... "

"I swear Ron and I never told anyone, we wouldn't do anything like that. I -"

"I know. I know … "

Hermione sighed in frustration.

"I thought I noticed everyone acting a bit strangely, but I admit, I'd written it off as just excitement about the game as well."

"How would they have found out?" asked Ron, who looked almost as sickly as Katelyn felt.

Katelyn could only shrug in utter resignation. It didn't matter how. The damage had been done. If the whole school didn't already know, they would soon.

"Can … can we go?"

"Of course," Hermione said, once more helping her to her feet. "Do you want me to see if Professor McGonagall will excuse you from the match? Maybe they can postpone it!"

" … no," she sighed in utter misery, "I have to do this. I have to play."

"But you don't, Katelyn. It's just a game."

She shook her head firmly.

"If I don't go it'll only make things worse. Just imagine how much hated I'll be if I cost Gryffindor the house cup because I was too afraid to show my face."

Even as she said it, imagining herself walking out onto the pitch to face the entire school made her stomach churn violently. Her entire body felt like it was covered in goosebumps though she was still incredibly warm. She remembered Dumbledore saying that he would try to help if she decided she couldn't play … but what could he possibly do to keep hundreds of students at bay? Even if he could prevent them being cruel to her … her certainly couldn't make them like her.

The trio laid low in an abandoned classroom until it was time. While her friends hoped it would help her calm down, she only began feeling more and more frantic as the minutes slowly ticked away. By the time they were escorting her down to the pitch, it was all she could do to keep herself upright.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ron asked before Katelyn stepped inside the locker room.

"Y-yes," she forced out, trying to maintain her composure. "I'm sure."

Hermione pulled her into a crushing hug.

"You'll do great Katelyn. Everything will be okay."

Katelyn didn't have a reply, but she returned the embrace. Once they parted, she hugged Ron too. Then, she stepped inside, bracing herself for the worst. Oliver noticed something wrong as soon as he laid eyes on her.

"Katelyn, is everything alright?" he asked, leaving the group to speak to her.

"J-j-just a little nervous," she stammered numbly. "I'm fine ..."

For a moment, she thought he might press her on it, but he reluctantly accepted her words and let her go to get kitted up.

"Don't worry," said Fred as she rejoined the team. "You'll do a smashing job."

"Yeah," said George. "It can only go up from here."

"Or down," said Fred, mimicking the motion of a dive-bombing broom.

She wished she hadn't noticed Alicia rolling her eyes. At least it seemed that her teammates were unaware of the news, for now.

"Thanks," she choked out.

She couldn't focus at all as Oliver gave his pep talk. She wanted so badly to be strong, and keep it together, but it nearly felt like her body was going to rattle itself apart with anxiety, and she would crumple into a heap of disjointed limbs as soon as she mounted her broom.

"Katelyn?"

"S-sorry," she stammered. "What?"

"The plan?" Oliver prodded gently. She thought she heard Alicia and Angelina groan under their breath.

"Catch the Snitch before Snape can f-favour Hufflepuff too much," she regurgitated dutifully.

"Good."

She didn't see the worried looks that Fred and George gave each other. And she didn't hear another word of Oliver's speech, which ended all too soon. Though it was inevitable, she desperately wished that she could just have a few more moments of solitude before they had to step outside. She wished she could go back, even if just to the dreadful, quiet half an hour she'd spent the empty classroom with Hermione and Ron.

But no, everyone was getting to their feet. It was time. She jumped when the twins both patted her on the back as they took the field.

The 1992 Gryffindor-Hufflepuff quidditch match would be remembered by Katelyn Potter as little more than a blur. The moment she laid eyes on the student body of Hogwarts, crowded high up into the stands, her mind went blank. Her ears filled with noise. She noticed Snape out of the corner of her eye but she couldn't convince herself to care. She thought she might tumble off of her Nimbus 2000 on her own before he had the chance to try anything.

Then the whistle blew, and she was soaring high above the pitch. She didn't know how much time she spent, flying circles. It was difficult to see properly - in fact, difficult to fly as well, as she was also doing everything in her power not to let herself look at the stands.

She forced herself to repeat the mantra: ' _Find the Snitch. Find the Snitch. Find the Snitch.'_ She couldn't think about anything else. She couldn't risk it. _'Find the snitch. Find the snitch.'_

And suddenly, there was a glimmer of gold, off in the distance. She shot forward, her mind running on autopilot, and the next thing she remembered, she was clutching the snitch in her hand, spinning around in a wild search for Snape, to make sure he saw it so he would end the game.

When she thumped to the ground, nearly tumbling off her broom, applause was howling in her ears and tears were streaming from her eyes. She completely forgot to take off her kit as she hastily stowed her Nimbus 2000 back into it's shed and fled the quidditch pitch.

Her legs ended up carrying her at a full sprint to Hagrid's hut, where she practically collapsed against the door.

"Oy, Katelyn! Ruddy brilliant that game was!" Hagrid cheered as he peeked out from within.

His face fell instantly when he saw her properly.

"Oh dear," he said, voice suddenly very serious. "Come in then, come in."

She burst into tears the moment she crossed the threshold, as the emotions she'd been trying to bottle up for the last two weeks all erupted forth at once.

She spent a long time sitting on the floor, huddled against the wall, with both arms wrapped around Fang, sobbing into the dog's neck. Hagrid put the kettle on and came to sit at her side. He didn't speak. There was nothing to say.

The reality of the situation was finally, fully dawning on her. The entire school was going to find out what she'd done. How was she going to face the day? Or just get out of bed? The shame coursed through her body, coming in wave after wave, bringing fresh tears with it each time.

It didn't matter how many times Healer Burch had told her that she shouldn't feel ashamed or guilty - because right now, it was all consuming, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She completely forgot that she'd at least made it out of quidditch game alive, as if an attempt on her life would have been so bad compared to the current reality.

Sometime later, there was knocking at the door. While Hagrid went to look, Katelyn hugged Fang even tighter, as if the great dog might shield her from any prying eyes.

"Ah, you two'd best come in. She's in a right state abou' somethin'," Hagrid said gravely.

"Katelyn," Hermione said, taking up the spot that Hagrid had just vacated. "Oh Katelyn, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'm f-f-fine," she stammered, burying her face further into Fang's fur as another bout of sobs bubbled up from her chest.

"It'll be alright," Hermione soothed, gently brushing her shoulder. "Just let it out."

It was a long while before she finally mustered the courage to lift her head. Hermione and Ron both looked sick with worry, which did little to lift her spirits.

"I - I'm okay n-now," she said as Fang settled down and laid his head in her lap. "Honest."

"Did something happen during the game?" Hermione asked gingerly.

"N-no. I'm just … I couldn't … couldn't anymore … "

She didn't even know where to begin.

"It's okay," Ron said. "We understand."

"What am I gonna do?" she whimpered.

"We really ought to talk to Professor McGonagall," said Hermione.

"It's too late now," Katelyn said, her eyes still brimming with tears. "My life is over."

"I hate ter pry, but … " said Hagrid, who had been watching with trepidation.

"Someone in the school's found out about what happened with Katelyn, and now it's spreading," Ron explained.

"I don't think everyone knows yet, but I heard several other students talking about it during the game," Hermione added somberly.

"I swear on me life I'd never tell a soul."

"I know," croaked Katelyn. "I trust you."

"Oh, tha's horrible … As if ye don't get enough to be goin' on with."

Hagrid served tea, and they moved on to discussing other things. Ron told them about his brawl with Malfoy (much to Hermione's chagrin) while Katelyn recounted what little she could remember of the game, which didn't amount to much.

"So you didn't see Snape do anything fishy?" Ron asked at one point.

"No. I … I honestly forgot about him for the most part," Katelyn said. She was feeling better - physically, at least - thanks to Hagrid's strong tea, and good company. "I was feeling really sick up there."

"I didn't think he would try anything with Dumbledore there," Hermione said. "It's lucky he came to watch."

"Dumbledore was there?" Katelyn said, a bit bewildered.

"You didn't see him?"

"I uh … I was trying really hard not to look at the stands."

"Oh. Of course."

"Pardon me nosin' about again, but what do yeh mean abou' Professor Snape doing summat fishy? You three know that Dumbledore hired the man himself, don't yeh? What kinda fishy business do yeh think he'd get up ter anyways?"

"Well," said Ron, "You don't think it's a bit odd that he wanted to referee the game?"

"After what happened last time with Katelyn's ruddy broom, it's no surprise. If there was ever a man ter keep an eye out for magical interference, I'd put him up fer the job sure's any."

"But not Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Hermione.

"I mean … yeh've seen the man, 'aven't yeh? Nice bloke, an' all, but 'e just hasn't been _all there_ since he returned from Romania, y'know? And besides, Dumbledore trusts Professor Snape, like I told yeh last time."

Katelyn didn't recall this conversation happening. Hermione and Ron, however, appeared less confused. They must have talked to Hagrid on their own. Was it part of their 'project?' It seemed more serious than they'd let on if he was somehow involved.

"We just er - thought it might be uh … a ploy to sabotage Gryffindor's chances for the house cup," Ron said, apparently doing some quick thinking.

"Mmph, I suppose I wouldn't put it past 'im," Hagrid said with a nonchalant shrug. "E's certainly keen on keeping the cup with Slytherin for another year iff'n he can. Ain't a Hogwarts professor alive who won't occasionally get up ter a bit o' hijinx when quidditch is involved."

With most of the serious matters out of the way, the four sat and drank their tea, and the conversation moved on. Hagrid told Katelyn some stories about his days at Hogwarts in an attempt to cheer her up, which, while not highly effective, was very touching, and she dearly appreciated the effort. She may have shed a few more tears as they talked, but with every minute that passed, the overwhelming sense of dread she felt began to seem just a little less so - if only because she was so utterly exhausted.

Eventually, there came another knock at the door of the hut.

Once again, Hagrid rose from his great big chair to answer the door, revealing Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, both of whom looked very grim. McGonagall took a great big sigh when she spotted Katelyn, who was sniffling into one of Hagrid's handkerchiefs.

"Oh heavens, child," she said, sweeping into the room and kneeling down in front of her. "I am so, so sorry. Are you alright?"

"I'm … I'm okay," she answered, unable to make her voice sound anything but utterly dejected.

"I suppose you're aware of this … new development, then?"

"About me? Yes … "

"It was a good choice to come here, Katelyn. I was so worried you might have done something rash. When I heard of the rumours, oh … " McGonagall said. "I promise you, dear, I will find out who is responsible, and they will not go unpunished."

"I don't want any trouble," she said, internally grimacing as she realized she was repeating one of her least favourite mantras. "I - I mean … oh, I don't know … "

Hermione began rubbing her shoulder again, which made her feel better and yet worse at the same time.

"I don't suppose you have any clues as to how word began to spread?" Hermione asked.

"At the moment no. Albus suspects that a ghost or portrait may have noticed something the night of."

"Dreadful gossips, those paintings," Albus said, dipping his head sadly. "In truth, if they did notice, it was only a matter of time. I am deeply sorry that we were not able to keep this information safe."

He sounded genuinely remorseful, and she had no trouble believing him after everything that he had done for her to make amends.

"At this time, you do have some options," he continued. "I would not ask you to return to class if you do not wish to. If you would prefer to take the rest of the year off, you are of course welcome to return next year, or the year after. I would be happy to assist you if you wish to explore private tutoring, or even another school."

"You would, of course, be sorely missed," added McGonagall, "but we would understand if you don't feel comfortable attending class with things as they are now."

Katelyn didn't know what to say. She could hardly remember - in fact, would prefer not to remember, her time before Hogwarts. While the school had played host to some horrible, horrible memories - if she were to count the truly happy, good things that had happened in her life, it seemed like almost all of them had been at Hogwarts.

"They don't know about … my … my aunt and uncle, do they?" she ended up asking after giving it a few more moments thought.

"Thankfully, it appears that at least _that_ knowledge has not been spread. There was quite the commotion on the night of your attempt, however, which is why Albus and I believe only rumours of the event itself have spread."

"Is there something ye haven't told me, Minerva?" Hagrid said, his voice low. "What's this abou' those ruddy muggles now?"

"Oh Hagrid," Minerva sighed.

"Now, Rubeus, my good friend," Albus said placatingly. "It is for Katelyn to decide if she wishes to share this information."

"I reckon she don't need ter share it," Hagrid said. "I reckon I know exactly what she's talkin' abou'."

He turned to Katelyn.

"That bruise wasn't from rough-housin', was it?" The sadness in his voice was crushing.

She hung her head as a fresh round of tears began welling in her eyes.

"I d-didn't want to lie to you," she squeaked. "I was just so afraid!"

"What bruise?" said Ron.

Hagrid shook his head sadly.

"When she wasn't gettin' her letters, in summer. Dumbledore asked me ter deliver one to her an' take her to Diagon. Oh, I shoulda' known … those bloody great muggles. Why, I oughta go back there and turn 'em all into pigs … fry em up and feed em to the thestrals."

"Rubeus, please," said Dumbledore. He gestured to Katelyn, who was now quietly sobbing into her hands. "I understand your anger, having felt quite a lot of it myself … but perhaps we might discuss the matter later, once you've had a chance to mull it over."

"Oh, Katelyn, I'm dreadful sorry for my temper," he said, softening his voice. "Yeh know I don't blame yeh one bit. You was just lookin' out for yerself, doin' what yer had to."

"So you took Katelyn to Diagon Alley before school?" asked Hermione.

"Aye, sure did," Hagrid said with a sigh. "Had a great big bruise on her arm, told me it was just from playin' with her schoolmates an' her cousin. Played it off like it was nothin' at all. I had a funny feelin' at the time, but she's mighty convincin' when she has a mind ter be."

"It's okay Katelyn," Hermione said soothingly, "It's not your fault. Hagrid understands."

"So you met them?" asked Ron.

"Almost wish I hadn't. They was all out on some ruddy great rock at sea. Poor Katelyn told me it was a fer a family holiday … an o' course, she's spent so much time coverin' up for those horrible people, she managed ter talk me outta worryin' abou' that one, too. I reckon they were trying ter run from the owls, seein' as they insisted she weren't going ter Hogwarts in the first place."

"They didn't want her to come to Hogwarts?"

"I suppose they wouldn't," said Hermione. "It'd be a lot harder to control her at a boarding school. Maybe they were afraid she would talk about them once they couldn't get to her."

"I reckon' likewise. An' not only that, they insulted Dumbledore in front o' me too, an' said loads o' terrible things 'bout wizardkind. Never seen a muggle so opposed ter magic since I was jus' a little tyke." He turned to the professors. "So, what's ter be done about them, if they've been mistreatin' her?"

"Albus and I have decided to leave it up to Katelyn," Minerva said. "For now, they are under a strong memory charm. They don't remember a Katelyn Potter ever being placed in their care - or lack thereof."

"What?" cried Katelyn.

"We haven't hurt them, dear," Minerva said calmly. "We can remove the charm at any time."

"I apologise that we did not inform you," said Dumbledore, "But we did not want to cause you further anxiety at such a delicate time. However, it was imperative that we not give them an opportunity to 'cover their tracks', so to speak. You may recall I spoke with them the day after the event … when I returned later to ask some questions about your treatment, I found them in the middle of an attempt to move house. Luckily, I was able to 'persuade' them to stay, should we have need of them for any number of reasons."

"And rest assured, evidence of their wrongdoings has been thoroughly documented," added McGonagall. "Should Katelyn ever wish to seek justice, we will be more than adequately prepared. And if not … well, they can go on living their lives as if they never spent years neglecting and abusing an innocent young girl."

"Come now, Minerva. It is Katelyn's choice."

"Indeed. I'm sorry, dear. I don't mean to pressure you into making a decision."

Katelyn made to speak, however nothing but a small sob escaped her mouth, and she hung her head.

"It's okay," Hermione soothed. "You don't have to do anything until you want to, _if_ you want to. Everything will be okay."

"You'll be alright," agreed Ron. "We'll make sure of it."

"T-thanks," Katelyn sniffled, her face still partially hidden behind her hands.

"Now, I assume Hagrid would be happy have you as a guest for the remainder of the day, however, it's best you don't stay the night here," McGonagall said. "You would, however, be welcome to spend the night in my quarters if you do not feel comfortable returning to the dormitories so soon."

"Yes please," she said instantly, as an image of Lavender and Parvati snickering flashed in her mind.

"Will you be alright without me?" Hermione asked.

"You are welcome to accompany her," said McGonagall. "Just this once, mind you. You will have to return to your dormitory eventually, Katelyn, unless you decide to explore options outside of continuing your education at Hogwarts, of course."

She nodded, unwilling and unable to let herself dwell on the future with so many other things to be miserable about.

"Lastly, Katelyn," said Dumbledore. "Though I realize it may not be your preference, I will be addressing the matter with the school on Monday morning. I will not go into detail, nor even mention you by name, however now that the students are becoming aware, I cannot simply brush the matter under the rug, as pleasant as it might be to do so. I think it only fair that I warn you, however, in case you happened to be conveniently occupied elsewhere at the time, and as a result, miss out on any unwanted attention."

"T-thank you," she mumbled, trying to feel grateful.

"Once more, I can do nothing but apologize for the situation you find yourself in. Please let us know if there is anything at all that we can do to help."

She gave another nod.

"Well, the headmaster and I have quite a few matters to be attending to," said McGonagall. "No doubt the owls have already started arriving. I'll expect you two no later than nine o'clock."

"Yes ma'am," Hermione.

Two professors bid them, and Hagrid, a good day.

"Oh, and Ronald?" said Dumbledore, as he was halfway out the door.

"Huh?"

"Would you please meet me in my office tomorrow at six o'clock?"

"O-okay, for what?"

"Excellent. That's a good lad," Dumbledore said cheerfully, letting the door close behind him.

Katelyn, even in her state of general distress, couldn't miss the alarm shared between Ron and Hermione. Maybe it was something to do with their 'project' as well. However, she was too exhausted to worry about it properly. She promised herself that she would give it a proper think once … once she was … less tired … but right now … she was, in fact, quite tired …

* * *

Katelyn was sleeping, curled into Hermione's side as they sat against the wall of Hagrid's cottage. Fang was at their feet, likewise fast asleep, a small puddle of drool forming at the corners of his droopy mouth.

"What do we do, Ron?" Hermione said with a small sigh, sounding helpless. Her legs had gone slightly numb from being sat on the floor for so long, but she wouldn't think to complain.

"There's nothin' ter be done," Hagrid said. "Sometimes life deals yeh a rough hand, an' yeh just have ter make the best of it. If the students give Katelyn a hard time, then Dumbledore an' Professor McGonagall will set 'em straight, I've no doubt abou' that. But for now, all you two can do is keep supportin' her like yeh have been."

"I guess you're right," Ron said. "I just wish there _was_ something we could do."

"I think yeh've done plenty, from what I've seen. She's lucky ter have such good friends as you two."

"Thanks, Hagrid," said Hermione. "It's good to hear you say so."

Ron made a slight, sudden movement, which went unnoticed by the occupants of the cottage. If one had been watching closely, they might have thought that Ron had spotted something through the window.

"Hey, Hermione," he said, suddenly getting up. "I think I've gotta uh … I'm going to … go get some lunch for us! Bring something back from the castle. Would you stay with Katelyn for a bit?"

"Yes … of course …" Hermione said slowly, furrowing her brow at his sudden burst of energy "Are you … er … alright?"

"Yeah, fine. Just got an urge to stretch my legs a bit, you know. I'll be back soon!"

And with that, Ron practically ran out the door, leaving behind a slightly bewildered Hermione and Hagrid. Even Fang looked a bit baffled, though he was quick to return to his nap.

"Bit of an odd one, that Weasley," Hagrid said, scratching his big beard. "Not as odd as his brothers, mind, but an odd one no less."

"He is, isn't he?" she replied, craning her neck slightly as if she might somehow see up and out of the window without getting up and disturbing Katelyn.

"Katelyn, wake up," Hermione said, giving her a gentle nudge. "Ron's brought lunch."

"Huh … oh … " she muttered, her voice breaking slightly.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes …"

"Were you having a bad dream?'

"Y-yes…"

"If you want to cry, you should. You don't need to hold it in."

"But I don't want to cry," Katelyn whimpered, tucking her head into Hermione's shoulder. "I hate crying."

As soon as she said it, a few small sobs began to break free.

"It's okay. Just let it out," Hermione said, holding her gently. "It's okay."

To Katelyn's credit, her tears only lasted for minute or two, but she hardly thought she was better off for it. She still felt guilty, and ashamed, and tired … all things she was sick of feeling. Things she knew she would likely be feeling for a long time before it all blew over.

"Where's Hagrid?" she asked, hoping to distract herself.

The fire was still burning gently, but the cottage seemed much more empty now that the towering gamekeeper and his great big dog were absent.

"He left to go work in the forest," said Hermione. "He said he was going to go collect salamanders. He should be back in an hour or two."

"He told us not to burn the place down," added Ron. "So far so good."

He pushed a plate of sandwiches towards her. Katelyn reluctantly accepted one, holding it up and frowning at it. She noticed that Ron had a bit of dirt smudged on his chin, but she didn't think to ask him about it.

"I brought your bookbags, too. In case you wanted to work on your homework and whatnot."

"You mean so we could help you finish yours, since ours is already done?" Hermione said, turning her chin upwards slightly in a mock display of condescension.

"I mean, I wouldn't say no," Ron replied with a gentle snicker, before he gave a small gasp of realization. "Oh! I've brought one other thing, for you Katelyn. Here."

He pulled out a bundle of shimmery fabric from within his robes.

"Thought it might come in useful, y'know."

"Thank you," she said, forcing a small grin despite how she felt. "This is all really nice of you."

"Don't mention it," Ron said.

The two sat with her, patiently waiting for her to finish a sandwich, and encouraging her to drink lots of water as they tried to keep the mood light, chatting about Hogsmeade, and hags, and all sorts of other interesting things.

"Well, I think you two could do with stretching your legs a bit, yeah?" Ron asked once Katelyn finally finished the last bit of crust. "Why don't we go for a bit of a stroll around the edge of the grounds? You can put your cloak on and walk with us, and nobody'll be the wiser."

"Wow, Ronald, that's an excellent idea," Hermione said enthusiastically.

"Don't look so surprised!" he chuckled, pretending to be offended. "I have loads of good ideas!"

Katelyn felt a tear lightly prickling in her eye, as her the corners of her mouth began to pull upwards - she realized she was _smiling_. A genuine smile, even at a time like this.

"What do you say, Katelyn?"

"I would really like that."

The fear and misery that Katelyn felt, thinking of the looming return to school and the coming days now that her secret was out, felt just a little bit more bearable as Ron and Hermione smiled back at her. With them by her side, she thought she might - maybe - just be okay.


	19. Chapter 19

Hermione and Ron spent their Saturday trying to make Katelyn feel better about her sudden turn of fate: A long, peaceful walk around the edge of the grounds, slobbery cuddles with Fang, lots of good conversation with the trios favourite burly gamekeeper, and another meal ferried out to the cottage by Ron.

However, as the sun began to sink, so did Katelyn's spirits. The reality of it was really beginning to settle upon her shoulders, and it was heavy. Try as she might, she just couldn't ignore the fact that, in less than twelve hours, she'd have to brave one of her many worst nightmares. Well, sure, she didn't have to. She could run away. She could turn tail and perhaps never step foot in the castle again … but she didn't think she could forgive herself if she did. Especially after Hermione and Ron had just spent their entire day showing how much they cared.

Katelyn tried to put on her bravest face as they said their goodbyes to Hagrid. She hated to be such a burden on her friends when they only wanted her to be happy. She couldn't tell if it was working.

Things were looking grim as they slowly made their way to McGonagall's study. Katelyn, following behind Hermione and Ron beneath the cloak, felt utterly miserable.

They passed a few stray students here and there, and though she knew she couldn't be seen, it only took a small cluster third-year Ravenclaws craning their necks in her friends' direction to set her pulse pounding. She couldn't imagine how much worse she would feel once they could get a proper look at her.

Thankfully the journey to McGonagall's first-floor study was a short one. Just as they'd rehearsed, Hermione knocked on the door while Katelyn quickly stowed the cloak within her robes. They weren't sure if their professor knew about her father's cloak, or if it was only Dumbledore, but they decided it best-kept secret, just in case. Hermione was quite sure that such a thing wasn't really allowed, and Katelyn remembered McGonagall saying that disillusionment charms were most definitely against school rules.

So the three stood, for a horrible, tense moment, with Katelyn exposed in the hall, waiting with bated breath. She realized she was being just a little bit ridiculous, because, if she could muster the courage, she planned to eat breakfast in the Great Hall tomorrow morning. She was doomed if she couldn't handle a few students spotting her before then.

Finally, the door opened, and McGonagall appeared.

"Ah, hello. Come in, come in," she said. "You too, Mr Weasley."

They stepped inside her office, and the professor closed the door behind them.

"So," she said, "It may go without saying, but we are navigating somewhat uncharted territory here. There has not been a situation of this nature at Hogwarts for at least half a century, though I'm told some students have come close throughout the years. What I mean to say is that neither Albus nor I can be quite sure how the student body will react. Ms Granger, I have expressed before how truly good it is of you, and Mr Weasley, to be there for Katelyn as you have been, and I simply hope that you will continue to do so. If she experiences any harassment, or even just an excess of unwanted attention, I urge you to remove yourselves from the situation. I will not be pleased to hear you have gotten yourself in a fight, no matter the justification."

She waited for a moment (giving Ron a conspicuous glance) to ensure that her message was heard.

"However, do not think that you need to tolerate _anyone_ giving you to my office, or visit Poppy in the hospital wing, instead. Even if Katelyn is simply feeling unwell. There is no shame in sparing yourself some torment now and again."

The three friends looked amongst themselves.

"We will," said Ron.

"Of course," said Hermione.

"Well … I suppose I should get going," Ron said, trailing off uncertainly, as if there was far more on his mind.

"We'll be alright, Ron," Hermione said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you."

He nodded, with a look of determination.

"I'll uh … I can meet you here before breakfast, yeah?"

"We will be happy to wait for you before we leave, Mr Weasley," said McGonagall.

"Right. Well … "

"Thank you, Ron," Katelyn whispered, giving him a hug.

"Don't mention it," he said, gently patting her on the back.

Once he was gone, McGonagall led the two girls to a corner of her study by an ordinary, inconspicuous bookshelf.

"Now, this entrance is a well-kept secret. If word was to get out about its location, I would be very displeased to have to charm a new one. Understood?"

Katelyn mimed pulling a zipper across her lips, and upon seeing this, Hermione mimicked the gesture with a soft giggle.

"Very good," McGonagall said with a small grin of her own.

Katelyn wondered if she was going to pull on a random book to open a secret passageway, but instead, McGonagall rapped her knuckles against the wood.

"Open, please."

The bookshelf didn't answer, and McGonagall huffed in frustration.

"Open, ye great numpty!" McGonagall said, delivering a swift kick to the side of the bookcase.

Suddenly, the rows of shelves collapsed, sending the books tumbling down and revealing the doorway to her private quarters.

"I apologise … the charm is a bit overdue for a touchup," McGonagall said, as the books magically moved out of the way of her feet. "When I started, it only took a polite request and a light tap to do it. I must admit, though, I've been putting it off. I do find it a bit therapeutic at times."

After they had stepped through, Katelyn looked over her shoulder and, for a moment, saw the bookcase reassembling itself, as each dusty tome quickly floated back into its proper place.

"I've done a bit of charm work to liven the place up a little," McGonagall said as she conjured a tea set. "I hope it doesn't feel too sparse."

"It's lovely," Hermione said happily. "Very inviting."

Katelyn nodded her agreement.

"You should see the state I usually keep it in," McGonagall said with an uncharacteristic breath of laughter.

Professor McGonagall's quarters did indeed possess a certain charm. Though the walls were constructed of raw stonework, the floor was thoroughly covered in soft rugs. The rest of the space was filled by armchairs and a sofa, many stout bookshelves and chests, and an arched fireplace set into the centre wall. A side alcove was host to a small kitchen, aglow with warm enchanted candlelight. In the centre was a sizable wooden table, with several open books strewn about, as well as a tea set and more than one empty wine glass. Though there didn't appear to be any family photos, magical or otherwise, there was a small banner for the Montrose Magpies, with wings that would flutter on occasion.

"I've had some of your things brought up," McGonagall said, gesturing to two small, neat piles of clothes and toiletries on the coffee table. "Now if you'd pardon me just a moment …"

She drew her wand and began transfiguring her sofa, levitating the cushions apart and transforming each into a great plush pillow, while the frame grew out in length, slowly changing form to become a mattress. Katelyn wondered if McGonagall knew sofas with pull-out mattresses already existed - like the one Miss Figg had - however, she supposed that transfiguring it was a lot more fun.

"I've not done this in a while," said McGonagall, waving her wand one last time to tidy the covers, "Do let me know if the sheets are scratchy."

After they had their tea, McGonagall explained that she would have to leave them to do her evening rounds.

"I may not be back until quite late," she said, after showing them where the restroom and the ice chest were. "However, you needn't worry about me disturbing your rest. I'm quite light on my feet when need be. Oh, and shut the door behind me, would you?"

With that, she sprang forward and gracefully transformed into her feline animagus form - something that had not become less impressive since the first time that she'd demonstrated the ability in class - and stalked away, tail swishing behind her.

"Well," Hermione said after shutting the door behind the newly reassembled bookshelf. "Shall we try for a head start on a good night's rest?"

"Maybe not right away," Katelyn said, not eager to fall asleep and suddenly find herself facing the new day. "It's only Saturday, anyway."

"Well, as much as I hate to say it, I entirely forgot to ask Professor McGonagall to bring up our book bags. I think we're just going to have to relax and enjoy ourselves instead, as terrible as that sounds."

Hermione wandered towards McGonagall's bookshelf, which she had invited them to peruse in her absence. After a moment, neither seemed to have found anything of interest. Though Katelyn hadn't expected anything to interest her at a time like this, she was utterly surprised that Hermione wasn't already frantically plucking them off the shelves.

"Ooh, what about a puzzle?" Hermione said a minute later only adding to Katelyn's surprise. "That might be fun."

It truly was a bizarre day when Hermione Granger chose a puzzle over a book.

"Sure," she said, trying not to let her bewilderment show.

There were a few options, and after a moment's deliberation, they chose a box with the image of a rather ordinary scene: a picturesque forest, with deer basking in dappled rays of sunlight, while a stream could be seen shimmering in the background. At first, Katelyn thought it might be entirely muggle, as it didn't move at all. Once they had carefully cleared the professors' things from the table and opened the box, however, she could see a thousand little fragments of the scene swimming across the surface of each puzzle piece.

Trying to match the waving patches of grass or swaying clusters of branches together turned out to be a good enough distraction. Katelyn felt a bit like she was in the eye of a storm, as if she'd somehow managed to detach herself from the crushing anxiety looming over her head. Occasionally, a little white rabbit would spring through the forest scene, disappearing from one piece and instantly re-appearing as a bright blur across the surface of several other pieces in the pile in quick succession.

As the puzzle slowly began taking shape, the two chatted about whatever inconsequential things came to mind. Hermione did most of the talking, as was normal, but Katelyn listened with rapt attention, if only to prevent herself thinking about other things. She learned a lot more about Hermione's home life, about her parents and what it was like to be an only child. It seemed so utterly foreign to her, hearing about how they would sometimes dote on her, sometimes encourage her, other times try and get her to consider focusing more on her social life (seldom with any success). It seemed so utterly different from Katelyn's own childhood that it was difficult, if not impossible, to imagine. She told herself that it couldn't be helped if she felt just a little bit jealous.

After nearly two hours passed in the blink of an eye, they were left with a completed puzzle, two empty cups of tea, and a half-eaten plate of biscuits. Katelyn would have called it a wonderful evening if not for the circumstances. It really was a shame that she couldn't have enjoyed it more properly, she thought as they began carefully scooping the pieces back into the box.

When they finished, the small brass clock in the kitchen read just past eleven. As much as she would have liked to stay up until two or three to keep Sunday at bay for a little while longer, she couldn't refuse Hermione's suggestion that they get ready for bed, lest she reveal how anxious she truly was becoming.

Their pyjamas donned, and teeth brushed, the two girls laid down to try for some sleep.

"I still don't think it's settled in, for me," Hermione said after they had tucked themselves under the covers. She didn't sound particularly tired.

"Hm?"

"Isn't it so strange, that we're actually sleeping in Professor McGonagall's private quarters? We're in her living room. And this bed is practically a pull-out couch. A month ago, if anyone had told me I'd been doing this, I don't think I'd have believed it."

"It is," Katelyn agreed. "It's really strange."

"When do you think the last time she had company stay over was? She said she had to tidy up for us."

"Oh. I don't know. Are any of the professors married, do you think?"

"I haven't the foggiest," Hermione said. "Perhaps they aren't allowed to discuss it. Or maybe they're expected to be chaste, like a nun or a monk of some sort."

Despite all of the gossip at Hogwarts, Katelyn had certainly never heard anything about a member of staff having a spouse, or even a boyfriend or girlfriend. Unfortunately, just thinking the word 'gossip' suddenly reminded Katelyn once more of what awaited her in the morning, and her body made a small, involuntary shudder as a sudden surge of anxiety swelled. She quickly snuggled into her pillow, trying to play it off as some sort of strange yawn or stretching motion.

"Oh, Katelyn," Hermione said, turning over to face her. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

She tried grounding herself in the present, and forced herself to focus on the gentle hum of the castle. The softness of the sheets against her skin. The faint but familiar smell of Hermione's shampoo, and the quiet, rhythmic sound of her breathing. It did help, a little, though she still felt a dreadful tension in her stomach.

"You're terrified, aren't you," Hermione said softly, more statement than question.

" … Yes," she admitted.

"I know I would be too if I was in your place," Hermione said after a long silence that was actually rather loud. "If you want to talk about what you're thinking, I'd be happy to listen."

The entire day, Katelyn had been thinking about whether or not she really wanted to return to Hogwarts. There were so many reasons for her to turn tail, pack her bags, and never look back - every sleepless night spent trying to bottle up her emotions and lying to herself that she would be okay when she thought - truly believed - that things would never really get better. And every snicker, sideways glance, or muttered insult in the corridors, from students she didn't even know, simply because she was thrust into a role she had never asked for. And not just as a seeker, but as the Girl Who Lived, too.

Memories, so vivid, of being afraid, and alone, knowing that even if she somehow survived the year, she would be returning to a home that loathed her even more, and made sure she knew it.

But even as she went over the seemingly endless list of reasons to leave and never step foot in the castle again, one thing was startlingly clear:

She didn't have as many reasons to stay - very few, in fact - but those reasons had quickly come to outweigh even the worst things she had experienced at Hogwarts.

Hermione and Ron, who had quickly become so important, so precious, that she couldn't even fully describe what they meant to her. She'd never known what it was like to be cared for in a such a way, whether it was Hermione staying awake with her late into the night, or Ron trying to make her laugh and cheer her up … she didn't think she could ever let the feeling go. The feeling of being … well, she didn't know if it was love. Maybe she never would. But whatever she did feel … well, with the help of Healer Burch, now she knew it was real, and special, and it might just be the best thing that had ever happened to her.

With that in mind, she knew that she would have to try. Because walking away from Hermione and Ron, and Hagrid, and even Hagrid and Professor McGonagall, well, that would be far worse than whatever she might face tomorrow.

"Katelyn?" Hermione said gently. Katelyn had been silent for some time now.

"Sorry ... I just was thinking. I … I am afraid. Really afraid. But I've got to try," she finally said, though she couldn't quite bring herself to say why.

"Ron and I will be there for you. "

"I know," Katelyn said, a tear beginning to well in her eye. ' _Those damned tears'_ , she thought bitterly, as she suffered a loud, involuntary sniffle. "I know."

"Oh, come here," Hermione said, holding her arms open and letting Katelyn fold herself into a soft, warm, and much needed embrace. "It's okay."

* * *

When Minerva returned from her evening rounds, well, to describe her as simply tired would be exceptionally generous. It had been a long, long night indeed. She'd thoroughly chastised a pair of mischievous Hufflepuff third-years who she caught play-fighting in the corridor near the kitchen, using a pair of old broom handles as swords (and she'd charmed a handful of splinters out of their palms, to boot). After that, she'd spent the better part of an hour settling a dispute between the ghosts of two dwarves, and then banished Peeves for a whole day after catching him de-tuning the choir's piano. And to finish things off, she'd come to the Gryffindor tower to find a huddled group of sixth-years, in grave discussion over none other than Katelyn Potter. Needless to say, the looks on their faces seemed like punishment enough, so she sent them up to bed with hardly a word.

After such an eventful night, (and not to forget the ordeal that had been Katelyn's secret getting out in the first place) she wasn't sure she would have the energy to accomplish such a feat as waking up before ten o'clock, no matter how much she'd like to set a good example for her two young charges.

Upon entering her quarters (being sure to cast a strong muffling charm on her collapsing bookshelf entryway), she found both of girls fast asleep. She did a double-take in the dim light as she realized that the two girls were snuggled up together. Katelyn Potter was nestled into Hermione Granger's arms, looking very much like a child being protected by an older sister. She couldn't help but feel a sharp pang of sadness for the poor girl, but she was likewise heartened to see Katelyn being comforted in her time of need.

Minerva stood, just taking in the unusual sight for a long moment, feeling a strong urge to protect them both from harm. She didn't know what tomorrow would bring, nor the many days ahead, but she was not lacking for hope that Katelyn Potter might yet get her chance to live a normal, happy life like she truly deserved. It would likely be a long, winding road to that goal, she was certain. But despite the odds, she had made it this far, and Minerva would be damned if she would let anything stop her making it even further on the path to happiness.

* * *

Katelyn woke with a start, only to find that she was surrounded by warmth, and a familiar scent - a reassuring weight was pressed firmly around her - she felt herself instantly relaxing, before her mind could continue its spiral into anxiety. A deep sigh of content followed as she realized that she was held in the arms of her first and best friend, Hermione, who it seemed was still asleep. She thought for a moment about if there had been any nightmares …

Well, there had been a few - little bits and pieces she remembered. Draco and Pansy insulting her but she couldn't remember the words. Jeering faces rounding on her as entered the great hall, but she couldn't hear the sounds. Compared to some of the dreams she had, it wasn't all too bad. Her head didn't even hurt, though her eyelids were still quite heavy. McGonagall's quarters were lit with the soft, blue-orange glow of morning, though she was quite sure that the room was located right in the middle of the castle, and had no windows.

Katelyn couldn't remember ever feeling safer, or more cherished and special than she did right now. She thought she would be happy if she never moved a muscle again.

After savouring the moment for as long as she could, thoughts of the impending day gradually began to creep back into her mind - the pitying looks and the giggles and whispers - the fear and shame that might never fully go away. Such thoughts were easier to bear, however, when she was safe, and warm, and happy, and it could still be hours before Hermione woke. She forced herself to concentrate, staying in the here and now, and making the most of this wonderful morning she was having despite the odds.

She was exceptionally grateful that it seemed like much, much longer than a few sparse minutes before Hermione finally began to stir. She felt a little pang of sadness, but it didn't last as her friend's eyelids slowly began to lift.

"Good morning," Hermione yawned. "How do you feel?"

"Great, at the moment," she said, though in truth she did feel a bit self-conscious. Hermione's first thoughts in the morning were inevitably to ask after Katelyn's health, a pattern she was keenly aware of.

"Any dreams?"

"Nothing, really. I slept really well. How are you?"

"I'm so glad," Hermione said, stifling another yawn. "I feel very well rested, myself. Do you mind if I get up?"

"Mm … just a minute … " Katelyn sighed, taking one last great deep breath, knowing that she might not feel this good again for a long time. Maybe never. Especially after today, who could say how miserable she might end up. " … Okay."

She slowly wriggled her way apart from Hermione, and the two sat up. Katelyn felt a strand of hair in her mouth and plucked it out to find it was curly, and chestnut brown. She looked up to see Hermione holding back a giggle, and she felt herself smile in return.

"Sorry," Hermione said.

"I don't mind. Thank you for … well, you know."

"Of course. It's the least I can do. You know it's no trouble at all. Truly."

Katelyn felt a blush coming on all the same. She tried not to feel guilty about such positive attention, but it took a lot of effort, and she was rarely successful.

"Well," said Hermione, getting up, "I need the loo."

Once the door clicked shut behind her, Katelyn decided to make the most of her time and do a few press-ups. She remembered now that she'd skipped last night, so she supposed she ought to do double to make up for it.

She'd managed thirteen when the voice of her Head of House startled her senseless.

"Please tell me Oliver hasn't put you - " McGonagall said, trailing off as Katelyn recoiled in shock, dropping flat on the floor, "... up to this …"

"N-no, Professor," Katelyn said with a gasp of air. She sat up, clutching her chest. "Er, Minerva. Sorry."

McGonagall, who was already dressed, waved her hand, pardoning the nitpicking over titles and names.

"Don't fret, dear. I'm sorry for frightening you," she said. "I thought you'd heard me come in. Regardless, if Oliver hasn't asked it of you, I would likewise hope you're not working yourself to the bone over fear of losing your place on the team. Especially not after your stellar performance yesterday. In fact, with all of the commotion, I don't believe I even thought to congratulate you on a stunning victory."

"Er, thank you. And no, Prof- err … Minerva. It's something Healer Burch told me about. She told me about creating a morning ritual."

"I assume you mean it in the muggle sense."

"Oh, right. Er, yes, that. I started doing some exercises every morning, and before bed, to help with my anxiety - but I think I've actually come to enjoy it a bit. It makes it a lot easier to get out of bed."

"Hmph," McGonagall chuckled. "If someone told me to do exercises first thing after getting out of bed in the morning, I almost doubt I'd ever leave it. Well, I assume you weren't quite finished, carry on, dear."

Katelyn resumed her press-ups with vigour, feeling awkward with McGonagall watching. She made it through the other twenty-seven without particular difficulty, though she was still blushing when she finished.

"I imagine you two slept quite well, then?" McGonagall asked once Katelyn got up.

Katelyn only felt her blush deepen as it occurred to her that McGonagall had probably seen them laying together when she came back from her patrol.

"Er, yes, thanks."

"Relax dear," McGonagall said with a chuckle. "It's quite alright. You two are rather precious, if you don't mind my saying."

Katelyn didn't think she did mind, but her cheeks continued to redden as McGonagall's smile became a bit of a smirk.

Hermione emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed.

"Oh, good morning Professor McGonagall!" she said brightly, smiling at Katelyn.

"And to you Ms Granger," McGonagall said, shooting Katelyn another grin. "Well, don't hurry yourselves overly much, I'm in no rush. When you two are both good and ready, I'll walk you down to the Hall for breakfast."

"Yes, ma'am - er, professor - Minerva."

Katelyn wasted no time grabbing her things and scurrying into the bathroom to shower. After a few minutes, she started hearing voices. Once she'd towelled off and dressed, she emerged to find Ron had already joined them.

"Morning, Katelyn," he said with a cautious smile.

"Good morning, Ron. I'm okay, thank - " She only realized afterwards that he hadn't actually asked how she was feeling this time, so used to it was she. " I mean … how uh … how are you?" she finished lamely, feeling daft.

"It's alright," Ron said with an easy chuckle. "I already asked Hermione, is all. We do have a bit of a routine, don't we? Anyways, since you asked, I was up all night worrying about you two, but it sounds like you spent all night partying without me again."

"Only joking!" he added quickly, seeing Katelyn flush with guilt. "And besides, I usually have more fun than you two combined, so it's only fair you get to catch up now and again. Even though Neville and I had a brilliant game of exploding snap last night, I'll have you know."

He pointed to his eyebrow, and it did appear that small portion was thoroughly singed.

As the four went down to the Great Hall together, and Ron recounted his game with Neville, Katelyn again felt gratitude more than anything, that she was so lucky to have the friends she did. Her hands didn't even start shaking until they were just outside the hall, standing off to the side of the two great doors.

"Alright, you both know the drill," Ron said, taking charge. "Any funny business and we go straight to McGonagall -"

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione interrupted, earning a smile and nod of approval from their Head of House.

"Er, right sorry. We go right to _Professor_ McGonagall or Dumbledore (Hermione rolled her eyes), or we just up and leave and go find them if they aren't around. We're not taking any nonsense, from anyone."

"Exactly," said Hermione.

"Right," said Katelyn, though not with the same degree of confidence.

"I am very proud of you three," McGonagall said. "And I believe you will be just fine."

McGonagall went around to enter the room from the staff lounge side, hoping to make less of a spectacle of Katelyn's arrival.

"Ready?" said Hermione.

"Y-yes."

"Here goes," said Ron.

With one last look shared amongst the three, they turned the corner and walked into the Great Hall together.

The instant she saw the small crowd of students who'd gathered for an early breakfast, her heart stopped in its tracks. Somewhere in the back of her mind came the sound of two fists slamming down on the lowest register of a piano, as her stomach began twisting itself into a tight knot.

The Hall was completely silent, yet somehow it was deafening. Just as the pressure was building, with more and more faces turning her way - there was a gentle nudge at her back.

"It's okay," Hermione said soothingly, patiently urging her forward, "Just one step at a time."

"R-r-right," she stammered, feeling nauseous with shame as she hung her head, not eager to see another soul so much as glance in her general direction.

Thankfully, her limbs still functioned, and she allowed herself to be led towards an empty space further up the Gryffindor table. She made a quick, involuntary glance up to the front of the room to see both McGonagall and Dumbledore watching her with encouraging smiles. Surely nothing truly bad would happen - could happen, with them watching.

Knowing it, however, was different than feeling it. As they walked between the tables, the _air_ itself started to become _heavy._ Like some sort of grand, awful spell had magnified the gravity twofold. Katelyn's neck began to itch … she felt woozy and forced herself to focus on breathing, standing, walking, towards the empty spot further up the table. At least she was facing away from the Slytherins.

"See?" Hermione said quietly. "Not so bad at all."

"Yeah," Ron said in tentative agreement. "No one's hassling us, not that they would have any reason to."

Katelyn could distinctly hear the whispered tones, of what she could only assume where students speculating about her return, but eventually, life seemed to begin creeping back into the hall, as the sound of normal conversation started building back to the usual level. If only her heart rate would also return to its normal behaviour. Though she could still breathe perfectly well, the sensation of a dozen pairs of eyes fixed on her back stayed with her, whether she was only imagining it or not. The faint tickle at her neck remained, and she had to try hard not to reach up to scratch it.

"What are you in the mood for, Katelyn?" Ron asked as he loaded his plate, though they both knew it wasn't so simple.

"I'm not really sure," she said, keeping her voice down, as though she was out past curfew and afraid of being caught.

She noticed a steaming bowl of mashed potatoes, placed conspicuously close to where they'd sat, and she couldn't help thinking it wasn't a coincidence. Mash was hardly breakfast food, but it was one of her favourites, especially when she was upset. Ron noticed her gaze and moved the bowl in front of her. She gave him a small look of gratitude before spooning out a very ambitious amount in the hopes that she might at least eat a little.

After a few minutes passed (and she'd only taken a few bites of her food), the Weasley twins arrived, looking decidedly stiff.

"Morning," they said together.

"'lo Fred, George," Ron said, giving them a wary eye.

"What's with the long faces?" said Fred, though his heart didn't really seem to be in it. "Actually, don't answer that."

"We just thought you three could use some proper company," said George.

"That is if you don't mind."

Though it was anything but subtle when her friends both turned to her for approval, Katelyn dearly appreciated the consideration.

"Sure. Of course," she said. She secretly hoped that a being in a bigger group might somehow make her less conspicuous.

"Excellent," they chorused.

"Been an odd sort of weekend, hasn't it, George?" Fred said, helping himself to what quickly added up to become a full English breakfast.

"Too right," George said, doing likewise.

She supposed it would be foolish to hope that they had yet to hear the news. It was a surreal feeling, knowing that another two souls were now aware of what she had done. Sure, the whole school knew (even now she nearly shuddered at the thought), but seeing how it affected the people she actually cared for, well that was different. She didn't want to hurt anyone.

"Fastest quidditch win in Hogwarts history, if I'm not mistaken," Fred was saying.

Despite her initial misgivings, Katelyn wound up being very glad for their company. As they ate, the lanky red-heads managed to rekindle a bit of warmth amongst the group. With the twins keeping the conversation flowing (and perhaps a few gentle prods from Hermione) Katelyn even managed to finish most of her overly large portion.

"With the speed Katelyn's improving at, she'll probably catch the Snitch before the game even starts next time," George said with a laugh, as they finished recapping the game from their perspective.

Katelyn met his eyes and was able to put on a passable smile, and felt just a little better.

"Yeah, can't wait to see how cross Snape'll look," Fred said in agreement. "He was livid yesterday."

"Thought his eyes might bulge out of his head, we did."

"I was hoping he would explode, if I'm being entirely honest."

Katelyn nearly cracked an earnest smile. For a moment wondered if she'd simply been worrying for so long that she couldn't drum up any more bad feelings to feel. She knew she wasn't out of the woods yet, but it was starting to feel like she was getting there. She hardly spared Snape a thought as they continued on.

"Well, Katelyn," George went on, sensing that they were all finished with their breakfast, "Do you mind if we have a quick chat with you?"

"In private?" added Fred.

"Just some business matters to discuss," George said with a conspicuous wink towards Hermione and Ron.

"Uh … sure, I - I guess."

"You don't have to, Katelyn," Hermione said, firm but gentle. Apparently, she had the same suspicions. "Or we can come with if you'd feel more comfortable."

"Yeah, if you want us to come with, they can't stop us," agreed Ron.

She would never have thought to ask, but as soon as they'd said, she couldn't imagine doing it without them. For the emotional support, of course, not because she thought Fred and George were taking after Snape and trying to kill her. She looked to the twins.

"Er, if you … wouldn't mind terribly," she said, carefully watching their reactions. "I might like that better."

"Why of course," George said easily.

"Say no more, my lady," Fred added with a small bow, to which George enthusiastically joined in.

The group of five got up from the table and made their way to the doors. Katelyn tried to act natural - desperately avoiding meeting eyes with anyone at the Gryffindor table - but she still felt a bit like she'd forgotten how to walk.

She thought about sneaking a backwards glance at the hall before she left, but even now it still felt like she was being watched - and finding out it was true would hardly make her feel better. It was likewise an enormous weight off her shoulders to step out into the fresh air of the entryway, knowing she was, for the moment at least, out of sight.

"So, what did you want to talk to Katelyn about?" Hermione asked pointedly.

"Er, maybe we'd best find some privacy first," said George.

"Just taking due precautions."

"Don't worry, we know a good place."

Hermione and Ron shared a quizzical look behind their backs, but Katelyn trusted them well enough. They followed the twins through the castle for a short while. The corridors were nearly empty save for a few drowsy students making their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Katelyn shrunk behind Hermione and Ron a bit more with every student that passed by, each one at least glancing in her direction, if not verging on outright gawking at her.

The ended up on the fourth floor, where the twins showed them to a large mirror tucked behind a tapestry. The twins said "Pumpernickel", and it swung open to reveal a secret chamber.

"Blimey … " Ron said, impressed. "Secret passageway."

"Doesn't go anywhere," Fred said, while George conjured a set of colourful bean bag chairs. "Used to lead out of the school but further down it's completely collapsed."

"So," they began in unison.

"The reason we're here …"

"We needed to ask."

"About your funeral."

Hermione made a small gasp, and suddenly it seemed that everyone knew exactly what they were discussing.

" … oh," Katelyn said in a very small voice.

"Are the rumours true, then?"

"You tried to … ?"

"We didn't want to believe it … "

"But we couldn't forget what you said."

Not long ago, Katelyn thought she might not have been able to answer. But Hermione and Ron were with her. That made a difference.

"Yes. I did," she forced out.

They both shrank just slightly, but neither seemed tremendously surprised.

"So the funeral."

"You weren't joking, were you."

"No. I'm so sorry. No, I wasn't."

"I see," Fred said simply, while George remained silent.

"I remember that," Hermione said grimly. "You told us it was an in-joke afterwards."

"I … I didn't want to … I don't know … "

"So you really were ..." said George, looking woeful. "Planning to … "

"I mean, I didn't really want … any of that stuff. But - but I thought … " she was fighting back tears now. "I just thought it might be nice if - if I did have a funeral … it would be nice if a few people came."

There was a long silence. Hermione put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," George said quietly.

"If we'd known … "

"It's okay. I forgive you," she said firmly, feeling better as Ron put his hand on Katelyn's other shoulder. "Do you remember the last time we talked? I still feel the same way. You're both nice. You were nicer to me than most. I forgive you."

"Thanks," they chorused somberly.

"I just feel so … so daft that I didn't see it," said George.

"After all of this time."

"We should have noticed."

"No. I didn't want anyone to notice. I tried so hard to hide it. I didn't even mean to say anything about a funeral. It just slipped out."

"Me and Hermione felt the same way as you two did," said Ron. "And we were really close. Or at least it seemed like we were, at the time."

"I remember thinking that Katelyn was depressed … but … " Hermione made a little huff of breath through her nose, as if she was still disappointed in herself after all this time. "I actually thought she was getting _better._ Right up until it happened."

"Wow," Fred said, looking a bit dejected. "That's dreadful."

"Like I said … I didn't want anyone to know."

"Well, how are you doing now?" George asked tentatively.

"Right now isn't a particularly good time to be me," she admitted. "I'm uh … it doesn't feel very good that everyone's finding out my … my secret, you know."

"That's horrible."

"Can't imagine how it must feel."

"But, er, other than that, I'm … I'm okay I guess. No one's really said anything yet besides you two. This morning was the first time I've been out since the rumour started to spread."

"So … " George said hesitantly. "You don't … feel that way anymore?"

"It's still hard sometimes … but no. I wouldn't try again, if that's what you mean. Now I have - uh … "

She trailed off. Her next words had been " _something to live for_ " but that was far too miserable a thing to say out loud. "I have a really good support system."

"The teachers have been excellent," Hermione said, somewhat proudly, "Professor McGonagall said that she'd punish anyone who tries to harass her about it, and she's been taking Katelyn to - er - "

She halted abruptly, looking guilty.

"It's okay, we can tell them," Katelyn said. "I have a therapist, is what she was going to say. McGonagall and Dumbledore take me to Diagon Alley to see her."

"Brilliant," George said, though he still looked a bit weary. "What's a therapist again?"

"Oh, honestly," Hermione said with playful annoyance. "A mind healer. Someone you can talk through your problems with."

"Oh, right," he said with a nod of approval. "Good."

"And about the bullies," said George. "If anyone's giving you grief … "

"Reckon they might also find themselves subjected to some signature Weasley magic."

"You don't have to do that. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble."

"Well, trouble is our middle names, you know," said George.

"I thought it was Fabian and Gideon," interjected Fred.

"Oh, you're right. Nevermind then."

Ron rolled his eyes, but Katelyn preferred it to seeing them glum.

"Well, anyways, the point is," said Fred.

"That we won't stand by either."

"We've got your back."

"We promise," they chorused.

"Thanks," she said, blushing.

And so what had looked to be a very grim meeting ended up being quite a weight off of all their shoulders. The ranks of Katelyn's support network had grown by two lanky, red-haired twins. Two more people knew the true degree of her darkness and shame (or at least most of it) and were, miraculously, still in her corner. When she thought about how much she had been dreading this day, things had actually turned quite well, even if the day had only just begun.

Their conversation over, the trio parted ways with the twins and went down to Hagrid's cottage, to spend the last of their weekend in solitude with their favourite gamekeeper.

"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked as they walked down.

"Okay."

Both her friends looked at her expectantly. They all knew it was too simple an answer.

"I'm still afraid," she admitted. "But a lot less afraid than I've been. This might be the bravest I've felt in a long time, honestly."

"You saved me from a fully grown troll, remember?" Hermione teased, gently leaning in and bumping shoulders with her.

"Well, I had to do that," she said with a shrug. She remembered waking up with Hermione that morning, and felt a bit warmer in the chilly air of early spring. "It never felt like a choice, trying to save you. But I had to decide to stay."

"Well, we're glad you did," Ron said with a smile, linking arms with her. Hermione did likewise.

"Me too," Katelyn said, unable to resist smiling back.


	20. Chapter 20

Sunday, much like the day before, went by all too quickly for Katelyn Potter. Though on paper, she had succeeded with her modest endeavours, it still felt a bit like she was only dreading the inevitable when faced with an even more daunting Monday.

Sure, she had survived something as simple as venturing into the Great Hall for a short while … but she couldn't forget how horrible it felt. And she wasn't eager to do it again. Nor was she eager to return to class, where she would be in close proximity to the other students for hours at a time.

She especially had not forgotten that her first lesson of the day would be Potions, with Snape and the Slytherins.

As if that weren't enough, McGonagall hadn't extended her invitation, so Katelyn was going to have to go back to her dormitory tonight. And that meant going through the common room, and, unless she was lucky, a very uncomfortable encounter with Lavender and Parvati, who she'd been annoying all month, if not longer, with her myriad of issues.

"Are you sure you don't want to try getting dinner in the Great Hall?" Hermione asked, interrupting her thoughts.

They'd eaten lunch at Hagrid's cottage, but Katelyn didn't want to overstay her welcome, no matter how many times that Hagrid insisted it was okay. Nor did she want to spend another minute in the public eye. Hagrid had walked them back to the castle, and now the three young Gryffindors were tucked into a recessed alcove in the far corner of the entry hall, just out of sight of any passersby.

"I … I don't know if I can," Katelyn finally answered.

Hermione gave her a sad smile, and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I hate to say it, but I don't think it's going to be any easier tomorrow morning. I know it must be hard, but don't you think it's best to just … keep the momentum going?"

"You're probably right, but I still really don't want to. It felt like I was suffocating in there," Katelyn said, sounding about as miserable as she felt.

"C'mon, Katelyn," Ron said gently, "Dumbledore and McGonagall will be there, and Fred and George probably, and we'll be with you too. Nothing that bad can happen with your friends all around you."

" … okay," she said with a sad sigh. "Let's get it over with."

Her feet froze beside the towering doors to the hall. The way they lay open so seldom felt inviting, but rather like it was a giant maw that was waiting to consume her. She could hear the loud, casual chatter of the students of Hogwarts eating their dinner, and it was terrifying as ever.

"I … I really don't think … " she began to mutter.

Hermione moved ahead of her, peering right into Katelyn's eyes as she firmly planted both hands on Katelyn's shoulders.

"You can do this," she said firmly. "You're so much stronger than you think you are."

Ron nodded firmly.

"If there's one thing I know, it's that you can walk in there, sit down, have a bite or two, and walk out in one piece. You're the bravest person I know," he said earnestly.

Katelyn wasn't sure if she believed either of them, but she nodded, and forced herself to keep moving forward.

As she rounded the corner, she instantly saw that the hall was absolutely packed. Then there was an audible murmur, and gasps, as face after face turned in her direction. A sea of eyes staring her down. There were so many people looking at her, their gazes glinting faintly in the evening candlelight. A wave of nausea hit her in the gut. She couldn't do it. She couldn't take another step. She wanted to disappear. She wanted to drop d-

"Come on, Katelyn," Ron said in her ear, his voice calm and assuring. "Let's go sit."

And just like that, she tumbled back down to earth, her mind reunited with her body. She dipped her head, following her friends to a less-crowded space at the end of the table.

Her face, and the rest of her, continued to burn long after she'd sat down, and longer yet after she'd found another conspicuously placed bowl of mashed potatoes and started trying to eat. She was, unsurprisingly, not successful in her efforts.

"Maybe just drink some water," Ron suggested after Katelyn had been staring at the plate, her fork clenched with white knuckles, for several minutes.

"O-okay," she murmured, clumsily forcing herself to take a drink, and nearly splashing water down her front in the process.

She almost tipped the entire goblet over when Oliver silently sat down across from her, looking grim, as he had many times in the last weeks.

"Hi Oliver," she said meekly, dreading what he might say.

"Are you okay?"

"I … I'm … no. No, not really. I feel horrible."

"I'm so sorry," he said. "But I know you'll get through this. I just … I hope you believe I never said anything."

She shrugged.

"Yeah, I do."

"We know you couldn't have," added Hermione. "We appreciate you - er ... doing what you did."

He nodded.

"Of course."

"Do you reckon it still works, the vow?" asked Ron. "Now that almost everyone knows?"

Oliver scratched his head.

"Uh, I think McGonagall put a clause in there somewhere so I can get out of it. But I'm in no great rush to find out. I was glad to do it."

"It might be good, later," Hermione said. "Perhaps there's room for some … positive discussion … down the line."

"I suppose so."

"Well, it was bound to get out someday," said Ron. "Maybe it's better to get it over with."

Katelyn had a vague inkling that he might be right, but it was hard to face the possibility with how dreadful she felt.

"Well, either way," said Oliver, "The reason I came over was just to … remind you … that you can take some time off practice if you want. Let things blow over a bit?"

"No," she said abruptly. "I don't want to do that."

Hermione and Ron tried not to look surprised. Katelyn stared down at her untouched plate.

"Are you sure? It's … well, okay. It's your choice. But just remember, I made a promise that I'd keep Alicia and Angelina in line, and I mean to keep it."

"Thanks," she said in a small voice.

She briefly lifted her head and forced a faint smile of gratitude. Oliver instantly relaxed, apparently glad for even a small assurance that Katelyn didn't despise him for his small role in her circumstances.

"Well, I'll uh, leave you to it," he said, sounding relieved. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

She looked down at the table again, listening as his footsteps faded, until the sound was eventually lost to the tentative din of the hall. She noticed her knuckles were turning pale, her fist still tightly clutching her fork. It took a deliberate effort to relax her hand.

"Katelyn?" Hermione said gingerly.

"Can we leave now? Please?"

Her friends took a long look at her untouched food, before Ron sighed through his nose, and scooped up the plate.

"Yeah, of course," he said, giving her a reassuring rub on the shoulder. "You tried, and that's what counts. Maybe you'll feel hungry later."

She kept her eyes on the floor as she trudged her way out of the Great Hall. Maybe Ron holding a plate of mash would divert a fraction of the stares away from her.

"How do you feel now?" Hermione asked as soon as they were out of earshot of the hall. "You look really shaken up."

She sighed in a mixture of frustration and despair.

"I … I was hoping it would be better," she said miserably, "But it was so much worse than this morning."

"Well, it was more crowded," said Ron. "I would be a lot more nervous too if everyone was looking at me like that."

"It'll get better," said Hermione. "We promise. You just have to stick with it for a little while. You'll see."

"Okay. You're … you're probably right."

Hermione brushed a hand across her back.

"Well, do you want to see if Madam Pomfrey is in? Or we could get to bed a little early?"

The trio eventually decided it was best that Katelyn try and get some sleep to prepare for what promised to be a very, very long Monday. Thankfully most of the school was still at dinner, so there were fewer students in the common room to gawk at Katelyn as she scurried upstairs.

She was momentarily distracted from her miserable stupor when, after kicking off her shoes and tossing her robe atop one of the bedposts, she saw their two beds had become one in her absence. Instead of two twin mattresses, there was a single queen size. She stepped back out of the curtains. From the outside, it still looked like a pair of four-poster beds pushed together.

"What is it?" Hermione said as she emerged from the lavatory.

"Our uh …" Katelyn said, limply gesturing at the odd development.

Hermione poked her head in, and began to smile.

"Professor McGonagall's work, I expect," she said with a grin. "I knew she was up to something funny."

"What do you mean?" Katelyn said, feeling her face grow warm.

"Well, I don't mean to embarrass you, but she saw us together when she came back from her patrol last night. She asked me about it in the morning - the er … cuddling, I mean - and I may have mentioned off-handedly that I considered it before, but it wasn't ever feasible with the gap in the mattresses between us. From the look she gave me earlier, I'm quite confident it was her."

"It's not the first time you've embarrassed me with your off-handed remarks," Katelyn said, still blushing hotly as she thought about her own conversation with McGonagall that morning.

She looked up to see Hermione looking aghast, having realized that Katelyn was referring to her Christmas gift.

"You know I'm sorry about that," she said quickly, "I truly never meant to say anything - and - well this time was different - we … I - "

"I was teasing, Hermione," Katelyn said, quickly hugging Hermione before she could become more distressed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I wasn't thinking."

"Oh … well, it is a bit funny, in hindsight," Hermione said with relief.

"And now I have nice clothes and a huge bed to show for it. So I should be thanking you."

"That is true. And you're welcome, naturally."

And so they sat on their newly merged mattresses for a good while. They discussed their upcoming classes, quidditch, cuddling, and whatever else was on their minds. Katelyn ate just enough of the potatoes they'd taken from dinner to stave off her growling stomach (and to appease Hermione) before giving up and going to get ready for bed.

"Would you mind terribly if I … er… if I join you a bit later?" Hermione said gingerly, as Katelyn emerged from the washroom. "I uh … I'd just like to brush up on some things for class tomorrow. Maybe make a quick stop by the library before curfew comes around. I haven't really had a proper chance yet."

"Of course," she said, still guilty that they and been doting on her all weekend. "You deserve a break."

"A break?" Hermione repeated slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"... From me," Katelyn murmured sheepishly, sitting down on the bed.

"Oh, please don't say things like that, Katelyn," she said, coming around the bed and wrapping Katelyn in a gentle hug. "You're not a nuisance, or a burden. You're my best friend."

"T-thanks," she said, knowing it was not an argument she'd win.

"You know I mean every word."

"But really, you should take some time for yourself. I'll live."

Hermione smiled.

"Alright. I'll be in the common room or the library if you need me."

And with that, Katelyn was alone for the first time in nearly two days, or so it seemed.

As she laid there, the minutes feeling like hours and sleep far beyond her grasp, she wondered what she would do with herself. The brief bubble of happiness she'd shared with Hermione did not last long as the reality sank in. Katelyn had experienced some pretty bad days, but this weekend was up there with the worst of them.

Sure, she hadn't been hit, slapped, pushed, or anything of the sort. She hadn't been insulted or mocked, even. Her friends had gone out of their way to comfort her and shield her from the fallout. But this time around, the overwhelming sense of shame she felt was directly due to her own actions. The Dursleys would punish her for anything and everything … but deep down she thought she'd always known it was at least a little unfair. Or at least she'd finally come to realize it with the help of Healer Burch.

Now though, it was a problem of her own making. And she couldn't say that she felt the same way.

Hermione, and Ron, and Healer Burch, and anyone else that she could think to ask … they'd tell her that of course it wasn't her fault. That she'd done nothing wrong. But they were trying to make her feel better … and sometimes it was really, really hard to believe them.

Well, maybe Healer Burch would give her a straight answer. And because of the circumstances, Professor McGonagall had already arranged to bump their next appointment up to Tuesday evening. So she only had to endure another few miserable forays into the castle before she could ask. Surely she could at least survive that long.

With these thoughts in her head, all swirling about, she eventually admitted to herself that she wouldn't be falling asleep any time soon. It was barely seven o'clock, and she'd been cooped up inside for most of the weekend. The familiar feeling of anxious restlessness wasn't foreign to her, and it was only growing stronger.

She did still have the cloak. And it was still before curfew, so she wasn't technically breaking any rules if she wanted to go find her friends. Sure, it wasn't exactly the reprieve from her presence that Katelyn had promised … but at least she'd tried.

It took her another five minutes to work up the courage, but eventually, Katelyn found herself tiptoeing down the steps to the common room with her Weasley sweater and pyjamas, enveloped in the shimmery folds of her father's invisibility cloak.

She paused for a moment at the base of the staircase, taking in the crowded common room. She listened to the familiar ambience: the crackling of the fire, the occasional tinkling of a spoon against a teacup or turn of a page, and of course the spirited Gryffindor chatter - only, there was an undertone of urgency.

Indeed, as she crept through the room, seeking out her friends, she couldn't help but catch snippets of conversation:

 _"It's gotta be true. I asked McGonagall and she went totally stiff. She wouldn't give me a proper answer, just said it's not my business."_

 _"I still can't believe it. She has so much going for her. She's famous, youngest seeker in a century … she's probably flush with galleons too, knowing her parents."_

 _"Oh yeah, the Potters were proper well off, weren't they?"_

 _"Well, maybe she couldn't get into the vault. You saw what she used to wear around the common room - baggy sweatpants and worn out trainers … not exactly the picture of wealth."_

 _"Yeah … makes sense, doesn't it?"_

The uneasy feeling in Katelyn's stomach had quickly become full-on nausea. She didn't see any sign of Hermione and Ron. They must have gone to the library, she thought. On her other side, she passed Dean Thomas consoling a dejected Neville Longbottom.

 _"Don't beat yourself up, Nev. You haven't done anything wrong."_

 _"But I didn't do anything right, either. What if I'd tried harder to be nicer to her?"_

Katelyn, who had originally been planning to wait for someone else to open the portrait so she could slip through, took the risk of simply doing it herself beneath the cloak. She didn't look behind her to see if anyone noticed the portal opening on its own as she scurried away, her pulse pounding.

She felt extraordinarily grateful for the gift of invisibility as she passed by the clusters of students departing from dinner. It was truly a shame that she couldn't wear it to classes too.

When Katelyn arrived at the library, she couldn't immediately see her friends. It was a busy night, with upper-year students studying for their OWLs and NEWTs, but even after carefully scanning the tables, she wasn't able to find them. So she started wandering the rows, hidden beneath the cloak. There were quite a few private nooks and alcoves among the many shelves in the sprawling Hogwarts library.

Another minute later, she finally caught the sound of Hermione's voice somewhere nearby. She paused, however, as her friend was speaking in an intense whisper.

"You saw what?!"

Katelyn's heart rate spiked as she tiptoed around the end of the row. For just a moment she had a flashback to Privet Drive. The many times she would quietly sneak her way into the kitchen for a sip of water when Uncle Vernon was having a bad day and she knew the tiniest noise would set him off.

She finally spotted her friends, in a small alcove at the very back of the library, positioned carefully so that they could see anyone approaching. They couldn't, however, see Katelyn as she crept closer, inch by inch, until she could finally begin to make out the words.

"Threatening him? What do you mean?" Hermione hissed.

"He was trying to get Quirrell to tell him how to get past Fluffy!" he recounted, so quietly that Katelyn could barely understand him, even from only feet away. "He said something like … ' _let you decide where your loyalties lie.'_

"Why didn't you say anything!"

"I wanted to tell you sooner, but Katelyn needed us."

"Oh, of course, Ron. You're right," Hermione relented, still nervous. "But what do we do?"

"Well, it's obvious that Snape wants Quirrel to help him get the Sorcerer's Stone."

"And he's already tried getting past Fluffy."

"He said something about Quirrell's ' _Hocus-Pocus'_. So I reckon that there's loads of other things protecting it too! Maybe Quirrell did some anti-dark magic spells, and those are the only other things he doesn't know how to get through?"

"So if he can force him to talk, and figure out how to get past Fluffy, there won't be anything left stopping him from getting the stone."

"And then there's nothing stopping him from bringing back You-Know-Who."

"So what do we do?"

Suddenly, Katelyn was back in that classroom. Her vision swirled and danced. She felt herself lying on the cold stone floor, fire twisting and crackling at her neck, and two big hands, thumping at her chest as she coughed and spluttered back to life.

With crystal clarity, she saw those dark eyes, blazing with anger, as he leaned over her. Even as her own eyes flooded with tears, she knew in that moment that she would never forget it.

And with a flash of blinding insight, it all made sense. How could someone save a life and be so angry about it? Because he wanted to save her for Voldemort.

He'd tried to kill her at the quidditch game, but he must have realized his mistake when she actually came close to falling - once Hermione and Ron stopped him. He must have realized that Voldemort would want to do it himself. And from then on, he started trying to protect her. It's why he hadn't hurt her at detention - why he'd wanted to referee the next game - to make sure nothing else happened to her. Why he was so often present in the corridors when she was walking alone. He was trying to save her, but in the worst imaginable way.

She shook herself out of her own thoughts in time to realize that she was on the verge of vomiting. Her neck was itching again, fiercely so, and her stomach twisted and turned with nausea. She slowly began to tiptoe her way back through the library while she could still stand under her own power, breathing as slowly and deeply as she could.

For the first time in what felt months, Katelyn found herself wandering into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She felt a pang of longing as she heard the familiar sobs echoing through the room. She took off the cloak, carefully folding it away as her footsteps gently splashed across the damp floor.

"Go away!" shrieked the ghostly girl, from somewhere inside one of the back stalls.

Katelyn, startled, made to turn and leave, but then Myrtle's pale, translucent head emerged through the stall divider.

"Oh," she said coldly. "It's you. I thought you'd forgotten about me."

"I … I … " Katelyn fumbled, her guilt suddenly magnified tenfold.

"I heard what happened, you know," she said, a hint of anger in her voice as she flew through the stall, getting right up Katelyn's face. "From Nearly Headless Nick. Said you tried to off yourself, he did."

Her body instantly went cold.

"I almost got my hopes up. But I did some more eavesdropping through the pipes … you're going to therapy now are you?" Myrtle's voice grew bitter. "On a slow but steady path to recovery are you?"

Katelyn's mind reeled as she wondered where Myrtle would have heard any of this.

"I would have helped you, you know. I know loads of wonderful ways to die. You could have joined me. You could have been my friend."

"I … I have to go … " squeaked Katelyn as sobs burbled up in her throat.

The ghost didn't follow as she threw the door open and burst into the hall, coming face to face with a group of sixth-year Slytherins.

She locked eyes with an older boy that she didn't recognize - his face was blank as if he was just as shocked - she remembered she was still wearing her pyjamas - suddenly her brief paralysis lapsed and she scurried past them, her heart thudding painfully.

Katelyn found a secluded alcove to don the cloak, body still electrified with panic. It was a small miracle that she managed to sneak her way back to Gryffindor tower without her sobs giving her away. The journey felt like hours, or seconds - she wasn't sure anymore. She couldn't remember if any of the Slytherins had said anything - what they had even looked like, save for the one boy whose eyes she'd met. His pale skin and brown eyes, wide with surprise.

Her panic rose as she hovered at the base of the staircase to the Fat Lady's portrait, knowing she couldn't get in while underneath the cloak. But she couldn't let anyone see her like this. ' _They already have,_ ' said an unhelpful voice in her head.

She remembered that Hermione could be returning any second - maybe it was already too late - and despite her entire world spinning the wrong way round, she forced herself to duck into the nearest broom closet, stuff away the cloak, and march up to the Fat Lady, trembling from head to toe with nerves.

"Heavens, dear, what's happened? Are you alright?" the portrait asked, setting down her wine glass.

"S-Solis Occasus," she stammered out, furiously wiping at the tears pooling in her eyes.

"Dear, you can tell me -

"Please, I just want to go to bed," she pleaded, eyes averted. "Please."

With a long-suffering sigh, the portal swung open.

As soon as Katelyn stepped through, the din of conversation in the crowded room stopped - Katelyn broke into a run, eyes bolted to the floor, until she was up the staircase. She hesitated at the door for only a moment before her desire to let this horrible day end overcame her fear of what lie beyond.

Lavender and Parvati stood nearby, mid-conversation - she heard them both gasp slightly. Katelyn didn't so much as glance in their direction before striding to her bed, practically diving through the curtains and collapsing onto the mattress, and burying her head beneath her pillow.

She felt sick. Utterly wretched. Like a damp rag that had been wrung out repeatedly, and left, tattered and worn.

She laid awake for a long time, sobbing into her pillow, mentally berating herself for wallowing in self-pity yet completely unable to escape it. The terrible events of the weekend, of this very night, all piled up so quickly, so heavily, she was being crushed under the weight.

It felt like hours before Hermione finally came up to bed, long after Katelyn had sunken entirely into a mindless, miserable stupor.

"Katelyn, are you awake?" Hermione whispered, carefully pulling open the curtain.

Katelyn, curled up on her side and facing away, didn't answer, feigning sleep. She felt petrified as Hermione gently tugged at the covers so that she could slip underneath.

Katelyn focused on her breathing, trying to keep steady, her mind still spinning muddy circles from what she'd learned. She should have known that her friend's secret 'project' involved her. Of course it did. Her and Voldemort. He was trying to come back. He was trying to find this magical Sorcerer's Stone that would let him come back to life. And then he would come for her, she was sure of it.

It explained everything.

She was startled out of her thoughts when Hermione sighed.

"Sweet dreams, Katelyn," she whispered, snuggling up to Katelyn's backside and wrapping an arm around her middle.

Despite it all, Katelyn's weary muscles relaxed ever so slightly, as she listened to Hermione's breathing become slower and steadier, and her friend's warm breath gently fell across the back of her neck. The aching knot in her chest loosened just a hair as Hermione's arm shifted slightly, hand pressing against her stomach. Katelyn's problems, overwhelming as they might be, suddenly seemed … a bit less overwhelming. Sure, she had a lot to face tomorrow, but, at least for a few short hours, maybe things weren't so bad. She decided that she would just have to worry about Voldemort's imminent resurrection, and her impending doom, in the morning.

* * *

She woke from a foggy nightmare to Hermione gently shaking her by the shoulder.

"Hey," Hermione was whispering. "It's okay, Katelyn. Wake up. You're safe."

Katelyn rolled over, feeling dazed and groggy, but calmer than she normally felt when Hermione would wake her from a bad dream. Just moments ago, she had been trapped in a bathroom stall while Moaning Myrtle berated her for burning dinner, and for being a useless Seeker. Water had begun rising from the floor, up to her waist, but that was as far as it came before she woke.

"Sorry," she whispered, taking in Hermione's worried look first and foremost. Though her friend was smiling, she looked like she hadn't gotten a full night's rest.

"Don't worry about me," Hermione said, shaking her head slightly. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Katelyn said as she sat up and stretched. "It wasn't too bad."

Her head still hurt a little bit, and her arm was slightly numb, but otherwise, she felt as well as she could hope to.

"Good," Hermione said in relief, "It seemed like I caught it quite early."

"Thank you."

"Anytime. Are … are you sure you're okay? Katelyn, you still look upset."

Katelyn was just beginning to remember the conversation she overheard last night. About Voldemort and Snape's plans to bring him back to power. Apparently, her face was accurately reflecting her feelings on the matter.

"I just uh … I just remembered everything I have to do today," she lied.

"Katelyn," Hermione scolded gently, putting a hand on her shoulder, "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. You don't even have to go to classes. All of those options that Professor McGonagall told you about before, about tutoring, or coming back next year? She meant what she said. We'll still be here. Even if you don't come back to school, Ron and I will still be your friends. We'll write you loads of letters, and we can visit in the summer, wherever you end up staying. If you really can't bear it … well, we'll still figure it out."

A tear was threatening to form at the corner of Katelyn's eye now.

"I … I didn't mean it like that," she paused to wipe the tear away before it could escape down her cheek. "I have to do it for me. I want to. I want to get better and … and put this all behind me."

Hermione smiled and hugged her tightly.

"Then we will," she said with determination. "Let's get ready before everyone else wakes up."

The two quietly dressed and made their way down to the common room, meeting Ron in the common room. They exchanged a brief 'good morning' but didn't linger before making their way down to breakfast - eager to avoid the few sixth and seventh year Gryffindor's lounging in the room.

"So …" Ron said quietly as they descended towards the Great Hall together. "Did you sleep … uh … decently, at least?"

"About what you'd expect," she said with a meagre shrug. "Hermione kept an eye on me, though."

"We've had worse nights," Hermione said somberly.

"Well, what about you, Ron?" Katelyn asked, noticing that he looked just as tired as Hermione."How are you feeling?"

He looked a little surprised to have been asked. She hoped he wouldn't suspect anything.

"Well, er, worried for you, mostly," he said candidly. "I'm alright myself, I suppose. Didn't sleep the greatest, maybe, but not like you, I mean. No nightmares. Just a bit er - … restless."

"I'm sorry," she said awkwardly, unsure what words would make it okay. What might ease Ron's worries or assuage her own guilt. "I uh … "

"It's okay," he said firmly. "Things'll be back to normal in no time, now that your secret's out. We'll get there."

Katelyn nodded, though she knew it wasn't true for many reasons.

Breakfast was less crowded since they arrived early, but Katelyn still felt sick upon setting foot into the Great Hall. She did, however, manage to glance up at the head table, and feebly return the smiles of Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, and Dumbledore, who, along with the other professors and a great many students, were all watching her enter.

She felt the familiar, gentle press of Hermione's hand subtly nudging her forward, and she once again forced her body into motion.

They sat in familiar ritual, conversing as casually as they could while Katelyn tried to force down a small helping of potatoes, eggs, and a few sips of milk.

After several minutes, Hermione leaned into Katelyn's ear.

"Already an improvement from yesterday, don't you think?" she murmured encouragingly, eyeing her plate.

Katelyn had to nod in agreement, despite feeling about as miserable and ashamed as she had last night, and the morning before. It was factually true, no matter how dreadful she felt, but she could still see her fellow Gryffindors occasionally shooting her glances out of the corner of her eye. She would swear that occasionally someone would whisper her name across the room, but she didn't trust that she wasn't just hallucinating it out of sheer paranoia. Either option seemed equally plausible.

They spent the rest of breakfast going over the battle plans they'd created in the likely case that Snape or the Slytherins tried to bother Katelyn. The Weasley twins joined them for a brief check-in, offering encouragement as well as a few choice insults - but the trio unanimously agreed not to sink to Draco and Pansy's level. Hermione would take notes and they would report it to McGonagall after class.

There was a sudden shift about the room as a goblet clanked loudly, echoing through the great hall. Katelyn looked up to see everyone turning towards the head table, and followed their gazes to see Dumbledore stood at his full height, awaiting their attention. Katelyn's heart dropped into her stomach as she remembered his warning from Saturday.

"Oh no!" Hermione whispered frantically. "Katelyn, remember? He was going to -"

"Let's leave! Let's just leave before he starts!" Ron said urgently. "C'mon, let's go!"

"Dear students, if I might have a few moments of your time please?" said Dumbledore. His gentle voice carried a surreal distance across the hall, as though magically magnified.

Katelyn allowed herself to be ushered out of her seat and steered towards the entrance to the hall. She could feel the ever-present gazes of the students, but thankfully the beginnings of Dumbledore's speech seemed to be distraction enough.

"Whew, that was close," Ron said once they stepped into the corridor, turning to them with a nervous smile.

"That was well done, Ron," Hermione said, a bit put out. "I was so nervous, but you took charge right away."

"Well …" he said, sheepishly scratching his head.

The small rush of adrenaline faded as the trio made their way to their first lesson of the week, descending deeper and deeper into the dungeons.

"You know," said Ron as they neared the classroom, "maybe we should have taken the long way around. What if it's just Snape in there?"

"Oh no," Hermione said with a frown. "I didn't think to check if he was at the head table … What do you think, Katelyn?"

"Let's just go …" she said with a shrug. "Maybe he'll be better now."

She doubted it, but being alone with Snape wasn't much worse than arriving last, and having everyone in the room turn to stare at her.

They arrived to an open door and an empty potions classroom. The three lingered at the doorway for a moment before cautiously making their way in and taking their seats. The room was just as surreal and eerie without Snape in, it seemed. The torchlight danced ominously across the many dusty jars and phials that packed the shelves around the room.

Shortly after they'd unpacked their books and settled in, Snape quietly swept into the room - Katelyn jerked slightly in her chair as she stopped herself from turning to look. Hermione noticed, and put a gentle hand on her arm.

"Katelyn?" she whispered, trying to catch her gaze.

"I'm fine, sorry," Katelyn replied quickly, flushing. "Honest."

She pretended to review her notes, watching Snape settle into his desk in her peripheral vision. Seeing him take a quill and start scritching away at a stack of parchments, she didn't feel quite the sense of overwhelming dread that she expected. She just felt awkward, and confused. She didn't know what to make of everything she'd learned recently. In her mind she envisioned him cornering Quirrell, trying to get him to reveal his secrets.

After a few minutes, she realized that she was more afraid of how the other students would react than Snape conspiring to kill her.

The trio sat in uncomfortable silence, trying to appear busy and occasionally risking a whisper or two, as they waited for the other students to trickle in. It was nearly five minutes of painful silence before anyone else arrived. To their dismay it was Draco Malfoy who stepped through the door first, with Crabbe and Goyle right behind him.

Katelyn noticed both of her friends go stiff (as did she, naturally), however Draco didn't say a word, heading straight for his seat and slumping into his chair. After a moment of tension, it seemed that no snarky comment was coming. Instead, as she stared blankly into her book, it appeared that no insults were coming at all. She heard Draco whispering to Crabbe about their homework essays instead. He sounded a bit dejected, she thought. A furtive glance to Ron and Hermione yielded a shrug and a raised eyebrow, respectively.

Katelyn thought perhaps he was laying low so that he wouldn't get in trouble. He didn't even greet Snape, something he typically made a point to do, if only to flaunt that he could actually get a response.

Nonetheless, her pulse began to quicken now that students were starting to trickle in. She tried to force her eyes to stay on the pages of her textbook, but she couldn't help her eyes flickering towards to the door every time she heard approaching footsteps from the hall.

The next to enter was Neville Longbottom, who appeared a bit pale, followed Millicent Bulstrode. Then Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas, followed by Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini, who she thought might have snickered a bit at the sight of her. After came Parvati and Lavender, and lastly Pansy Parkinson, who definitely snickered, if not outright laughed, as she took her usual seat beside Draco.

By the time the class had all filed in, she felt her mind somewhere in the vicinity of a panic. The room seemed far too quiet, and she desperately hoped that Dumbledore's speech hadn't called as much attention to her as she feared. For perhaps the first time ever she yearned for Snape to start the lesson and end the painful, self-conscious anxiety.

Just as she thought this, Pansy began to hiss in a grating mix of a whisper and a yell:

"Hey Potter! Is it true -"

"Miss Parkinson," Snape called out sharply. "I find that I am suffering from a migraine this morning. You would do best not to agitate it further."

He took a moment to glare at them all, though he conspicuously avoided Katelyn's timid gaze.

"I think it's time we begin. Bring your assignments to the front."

Katelyn tried not to look surprised, not able to properly focus as they all stood and formed an orderly line. Her hands trembled as she neared Snape's desk, and she nearly dropped her parchment on the floor as she reached to place it upon the stack, so concerned with holding her gaze low.

Once back at her workstation, she took a moment to force a few deep breaths as Snape explained the procedure for the day.

"Katelyn," said Hermione, gently rousing her from her thoughts. "Could you start the burner while I fetch the ingredients?"

"Y-yeah, sorry."

Since Monday was not a double-lesson like Friday, they typically brewed simple potions, reviewed theory, or began to prep for particularly complex potions and essays. Katelyn indulged herself in letting Hermione do most of the work that day. Since returning to classes after her attempt, Hermione had taken up the habit of offering to do nearly everything, and Katelyn would insist on carrying her own weight in turn. Today, however, she didn't mind just doing the easier bits, and prepping a few ingredients here and there, or double checking instructions while Hermione tended the cauldron.

The air felt thick with a dark tension. She tried her best not to imagine every student in the room staring at her, occasionally whispering behind their hands, but it was a fool's errand. There was no more hope in pretending things were normal than that she was the hero of the wizarding world.

"Katelyn," Hermione said, gently nudging her shoulder. "Are you doing alright?"

"Sorry. I'm fine." She had to try. If her reputation could ever recover, it wouldn't help to keep leaving to see Pomfrey in the middle of class.

"All right." Hermione studied her for a moment, and it seemed Katelyn passed her test. "Can you weigh out the gurdyroot? We need ten and a half grams."

"Of course."

By the end of class, Katelyn was exhausted, and she wasn't even sure what for. Though Pansy had not tried to interfere again, just keeping it together was endeavor enough. She slumped off to Defense with Hermione and Ron close on either side, all the while longing to flee to her dorm and curl up in bed.

As it was her first lesson with the Hufflepuffs, she was once again subjected to a wall curious of eyes as she sat down, and the same barrage of wandering stares during class. Like always, simply being in the Defense classroom room was quick to give her a headache, but she bore it with determination, refusing to seem weak under so many watching eyes.

Her notes were never particularly tidy in Defense, due to the aforementioned headaches, but today they had to be some of her worst yet. She could barely read her own writing, and she resigned herself to accepting Hermione's inevitable offer of help later on.

It took most of her energy just to keep her head upright, and to refrain from wincing or pressing her palms to her forehead.

"Katelyn … hey," Hermione said.

Katelyn looked around, and somehow class was already over. The room was emptying.

"You've hardly moved since class started," she said, voice tight with concern. "Are you sure you don't want to see Madam Pomfrey?"

She looked down at her notes again to see that she'd hardly written anything down at all. She'd thought she'd been keeping up rather well, all things considered.

"Is e-v-v-rything alr-r-r-ight Miss P-Po-tter?" squeaked Professor Quirrell, from where he was preparing for his next lesson at the front of the room. "Anoth-th-ther headache?"

"Yes, but I'm fine. Thank you, Professor," she said, trying to muster some enthusiasm as she remembered what he might be going through. He might not be the best professor, but she pitied anyone who Snape might be trying to intimidate.

She ignored Hermione's look as she finished packing her things, trying to hide how shaky her hands were.

"No. I can do this," she told Hermione under her breath.

She pushed to her feet, but her head throbbed angrily - her legs nearly buckled beneath her own weight - Ron swept in, catching her under the arms and helping set her upright, not letting go until he was sure that she could stand.

"P-p-perhaps a v-visit to the n-n-n-n-urse is in order, Miss P-Potter," Quirrell said with concern.

"Yes, Professor," Hermione chirped as they ushered Katelyn out of the room. "We'll head there right away."

"I'm fine," Katelyn said the moment that they had stepped out into the hall.

"You're not feeling like you might pass out, are you?" Ron whispered as he watched Katelyn rubbing at her temples.

She was momentarily heartened to remember that at least she hadn't fainted in class in a long time.

"It's different," she said determinedly. Her vision was already less swirly and fuzzy than it had been a minute ago. "I'm just … well, I don't know. But I'm sure I'll start feeling better now that I'm out of there. If I don't show up to our next class, everyone will notice."

Hermione seemed to struggle with herself a little.

"Well," she said slowly. "You may have a point, but your health is more important than what other people think. If you start feeling ill again, promise you'll say something, before it's too late."

"I … yeah. I promise."

"Okay, let's go eat."

"Right."

It seemed all too soon that she once again found herself staring at a plate of food. She'd done well at breakfast, in her own esteem, but with her lingering headache, it seemed she was back to square one.

"C'mon, Katelyn," Ron said gently. "Just have a bit of toast, at least."

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled, feeling wretchedly guilty over how supportive of her they had always been, even before the incident. They shouldn't have to deal with this sort of thing. It was exhausting to be her, but she doubted it was any better for them. "I don't think I can."

"Katelyn, if you're not going to be able to eat, we're going to take you to Madam Pomfrey for a calming draught. You can't start skipping meals again," Hermione said.

"I know … I know. You're right. Is … is there any soup, maybe?"

If anything could light a fire in her, it would be the thought of taking another bloody calming draught.

"Of course!" Ron said eagerly, and before long she had a small bowl of hot chicken soup before her. She spent most of her time picking around the broccoli and carrots, but she had at least drunk most of the broth by the time the bell for class rang.

Though it was a miserable slog, with Ron and Hermione by her side, Katelyn managed to survive the last lessons of the day without incident. As the last bell rang, and she shuffled out of an especially mind-numbing History lecture, she thought her attention span was beginning to suffer more as the result of anxiety about quidditch practice than from the stares and whispers (or Binn's droning voice).

Her friends stayed by her side through another miserable meal, and up to the doors of Hogwarts.

"Well, I don't want to labour the point …" Hermione said slowly, stopping Katelyn as she was about to head outside. "But please, just remember to get help if you need it, okay? Talk to us, or Professor McGonagall, or Oliver, if anything happens, alright?"

"I will."

"And you're sure you don't want us to come and watch?" asked Ron.

"I'm sure. I'll be okay."

During her solitary march down to the pitch, her mind continually supplied her with all sorts of awful things that Alicia might say. ' _If only you were as good at dying as you were at swallowing the Snitch,'_ the imaginary version of Alicia laughed. Katelyn blinked and saw the seeker's smug look behind her eyelids. Though she could hardly have walked slower, it felt like mere seconds before she was staring at the door to the locker room with fear thrumming in her chest.

' _Well, at least she probably won't try to kill you'_ , she told herself, though it didn't really help. She stepped into the room as quietly as she could, but the hushed conversations died out the moment she entered.

"Hi Katelyn," said George, not quite hitting the lighthearted note he had probably been going for.

"Hi," she mumbled back. It was a terrible, woozy feeling, but the three chasers looked worse off, pale and sickly like they had been caught committing a crime. She wondered if she ought to feel some sort of satisfaction … but what good would it do her?

"Are you alright, Katelyn?" Oliver asked in that tone which she'd rather he didn't.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, sounding anything but. "Can we just start please?"

Oliver blinked for a second, coughed, and said, "Right, uh, yes. So! Here's the drills I have planned for today. I was looking through some of our old …"

Katelyn eventually tuned out, more focused on just staying calm and collected. The tent was feeling warmer and warmer, but she knew if she just made it out onto the pitch and flew for a bit, she'd be okay. Getting on her broom always helped. Well, almost always.

"Katelyn?"

Oliver was staring at her. Everyone was staring at her.

"We were just asking if you remember the decoy strategy we tried last practice. I know it was a little while ago, so -"

"Yeah," she said, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. "I remember. Of course, sorry."

She managed to focus through the rest of his talk. Oliver pulled her aside as the team went outside to begin their warm-up laps.

"Are you sure you're okay to be practising?" he whispered. "I hate to sound like a broken record, but you don't have to be here now."

"I'll be fine. I'm just a little tired. It's been a long day."

He patted her gently on the shoulder, kneeling to meet her eye level.

"I'm really sorry about all of this," he said. "I promise you, if they so much as snicker in your direction, they're off the team."

She could tell that, even now, it still pained him a little just to imagine sacrificing their chance at the House Cup for her, but she appreciated the thought. From the looks on Alicia and Angelina's faces, she doubted they'd be retaliating, at least for tonight.

"You don't have to do that," she told him. "They can't get any worse than they already were. It's getting better, I think."

"Well, if you're sure. I don't want to pressure you. But you can come to me if Alicia - "

"Oliver," she interrupted, suddenly feeling self-conscious and guilty as his mouth snapped shut and he blinked rapidly. "It's okay. I'll be okay. You're a really good captain, and you take good care of me. Don't be too hard on yourself. You're a good person."

She gasped as Oliver pulled her into a hug, though she quickly relaxed into it. He was a lot taller than Hermione and Ron, and her head barely reached up to his chest.

"That means a lot, you know," he said quietly, as Katelyn awkwardly attempted to hug him back while sandwiched between his arms.

"I'm glad … but we should probably get to work, shouldn't we?"

He ended the embrace, gently holding her at arm's length.

"That's my favourite seeker," he said fondly, giving her a proud smile. "And I really do mean it, you know. You belong here as much as anyone. Now, let's go catch up."

They joined the team running laps, and for perhaps the first time, Katelyn wasn't worried. Oliver seemed to be intentionally keeping pace with her, and she didn't mind. All signs pointed to him genuinely caring, and she thought she was finally willing to risk believing it. She was meant to take a few more risks here and there, so why not?

Practice went smoothly from there on out. Katelyn didn't mess anything up (not that she ever really did), everyone got along, and by the time the Hufflepuffs showed up for their scheduled pitch time, she actually felt like she was enjoying herself. It was a weary sort of thing, like it was all going too well, coming to her too easily, but, like Healer Burch said - there's seldom a reward without a little risk. So she allowed herself to feel glad for once. Maybe things really could get better.

She didn't remember that Voldemort was going to be resurrected and try to kill her - or that her two friends were secretly plotting to stop him - until she flopped into bed, her mess of freshly showered hair draping heavily across the pillow.

She laid, body exhausted but mind restless, for a long time, as the last bit of sunlight disappeared and her curtain canopy was enveloped in darkness. She hadn't seen her friends in the common room, so she supposed that they were still in the library, planning.

A half an hour later, she listened as two pairs of light footsteps entered the dorm.

"Well, we didn't really do anything wrong," Lavender said in a loud whisper - the kind that one made when they had been whispering for so long that they'd forgotten to do it properly.

"I think we came pretty close," Parvati replied firmly. "We've teased her loads, haven't we? And even then, we hardly did anything right."

She heard shoes being kicked off, just like she did herself at the end of a long day.

"It's not our fault she keeps ruining our sleep and making a racket at all hours of the night."

"No, but it's clearly not her fault either. It's not as if they're just staying up all night giggling and having a swell time."

"I guess so. But I still don't think we have anything to apologize for."

"Well, I'm going to. I can't make you do it, but you could at least extend an olive branch."

"... An olive branch?"

Katelyn heard a soft, but patient sigh amongst the gentle rustling of clothing.

"It means trying to make peace. We can try to be friendlier."

" … I suppose so. That doesn't mean we have to let her follow us around all day, does it?"

"I doubt she'd be interested in doing that."

"I'm only saying …"

"Well, no, of course we don't. We just try a bit harder to be nice. It won't take a lot of work, and then neither of us have to feel guilty. You saw what she was like today."

"I do feel bad … "

"So we'll feel a lot better if we just be nice, to try and make up for it, right?"

"Yeah, that makes sense."

"Good. Maybe tomorrow morning we'll try to catch her."

"Alright."

Katelyn wasn't sure what to make of that. She wasn't sure what to make of a lot of things. As the two girls finished getting ready for bed and said their goodnights to each other, Katelyn thought the only thing she was sure of anymore was that she was still alive, for now. And maybe if the whole 'Katelyn Potter suicide attempt' thing died down, she could put it behind her, and enjoy life at Hogwarts with her two best friends for a little longer before the Dark Lord himself hunted her down for revenge.

Oddly, she felt a little better by the time Hermione came to bed. After all, she'd spent a lot of her years thinking - sometimes hoping - that she might just drop dead one day. And she'd even … well, you know. So if she were to die sometime in the coming months or years, at least she finally had a few good memories to show for it. She made a mental note to ask Healer Burch if she wasn't supposed to think that way, because she thought it was a rather optimistic thought, all things considered.

She listened as Hermione carefully climbed into bed, gingerly pulling back the blanket and settling down.

"Katelyn?" she asked in the quietest whisper.

Though she had planned to feign sleep once more, she found herself answering regardless, slowly turning over onto her back.

"Yes?"

In the faint shimmer of moonlight, she could only see her friends silhouette, but somehow she thought she could feel the faintest grin upon Hermione's face. Or maybe it was her own.

"Oh, you're awake," whispered Hermione.

"Is everything alright?"

There was the slightest pause.

"Yes, just fine. Thanks for asking. How about you? Was practice alright?"

She felt a little swell of happiness as Hermione inched closer, their shoulders now touching, so that they could whisper to each other more easily as they both stared up into the canopy of their four-posters.

"It was really awkward I guess … but otherwise, it was fine. Nobody bothered me."

"I'm so glad. I mean … not about the awkwardness, but it is a start. You know, I think people are already talking about it a bit less, compared to yesterday anyway. Maybe after a while people will forget about it."

"Can people forget something like that?

"Well, maybe not. I don't truly know. But surely they have to get bored with talking about it eventually."

"I guess I should ask Healer Burch about it tomorrow."

"Yes, I think you should."

Though she still could not see, Katelyn was now quite sure that she could hear Hermione smiling as they whispered.

"You know, Katelyn … maybe this is strange to say, but I'm so proud of you."

"W … why?"

"You're handling this all so well."

"I am?"

"Well, I think so. And Ron does too. You're so strong, and brave, and the fact that you went to classes today, and practice … You even ate at every meal."

Katelyn couldn't help but breathe a tiny little laugh through her nose.

"It was only one bite."

"Well, even eating a whole piece of toast wouldn't exactly be considered a nutritious dinner, but I suppose it's not as bad if you have practice afterwards. Either way, it's still far better than nothing."

"I guess so."

"I'm only saying that I think you should give yourself some credit. I hope you feel like you're accomplishing something. Because you are, truly."

"... Thanks."

She couldn't contain a small gasp as Hermione turned over and put a hand over her middle - she had a sudden flash of recollection to the previous night, where she'd been too upset to really process it fully. When Hermione had snuggled up to her, thinking she was asleep.

"Oh," Hermione said, jerking her hand away. "I'm sorry, I - err, I didn't even think to ask. I'm so sorry. I don't mean to - er … "

"No, it's okay," Katelyn said quickly. "I was just surprised. I uh … I don't mind. Go ahead. If - if you want, I mean."

"You're sure?" Hermione squeaked.

"I - ... I like it, so if you want to ..."

She heard Hermione breathe a small sigh of relief, before curling over once more. She set her head on Katelyn's chest, and wrapped an arm around her middle.

"Goodnight, Katelyn," she whispered.

"Goodnight, Hermione," Katelyn whispered back, her cheeks flushed with warmth in the dark. She thought Hermione was definitely smiling now. And so was she - perhaps more than she'd smiled in a while.


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: Hello readers. I apologise, but an error was made when writing out chapter 20, in which I overlooked that Dumbledore was to address the school on Monday morning. 20 has been updated with this minor change. This notice will be removed in one week when I assume most past readers will be caught up.  
**

* * *

Katelyn was having a strange dream. Well, she was quite certain that it was a dream, anyway, as it didn't make proper sense, and that was typical for her dreams.

She was in the common room, sat on the floor, in a great big circle of her classmates. It was dark but for candlelight that danced across their many faces. Only, she couldn't see anyone's face, because now they were wearing hooded robes, and masks.

They were all chanting under their breath, but she couldn't make out the words. A fire of pale green began rising in the centre of the circle - she watched, unable to move, unable to look away - until the fire shifted, swirling, becoming deep, ruby red. Just as quickly, the flames formed into an enormous, raw crystal. Her head felt heavy, and her robes were itching against her skin.

A sudden pain erupted in her head as a hand snaked forth from the stone, emerging raw and red before hardening into a pallid, white claw.

The two students kneeling at either side of her in the circle rounded on her, grabbing her shoulders and shoving her violently, trying to force her towards the hand as it writhed, trying to claw itself free of the gemstone, which was now glowing a bright, sickly green.

The pain quickly became blinding, the green light burned brighter, as she was pushed closer, and closer, she tried to fight off her two assailants - the pain growing, and growing.

She tried to scream - her very skull was about to split open, the chanting was deafening -

" _Katelyn! Katelyn! Hey, hey!"_

She sat bolt upright, almost knocking heads with Hermione, who was leaning over her, now firmly pressing her down by the shoulders.

"Katelyn, it's okay. Hey … relax. It was just a dream."

She collapsed back into the pillow, pressing a clammy hand to her forehead. Her head was still burning fiercely, pain swirling around in waves.

"What's wrong?" Hermione whispered, inching closer, "Does your head hurt?"

"Mhm," she answered tightly, squeezing her eyes shut. She saw ghostly flashes of her dream behind her eyelids, but the haunting imagery was more bearable than the pain that continued to pound through her skull.

Hermione gently pressed her fingers to Katelyn's cheek.

"Oh, you're burning up, Katelyn. Maybe you're running a fever?"

"I … " She trailed off, only able to shrug. It was hard to form a coherent thought, but she somehow doubted she was sick. Or at least, not any normal kind of illness.

Hermione laid back down beside her, trying to help her relax, until a few minutes later when her breathing returned to normal, and the headache had subsided enough that she could at least form coherent thoughts.

Hermione fetched Katelyn's dream journal and a ballpoint pen, and pressed them into her hands.

"I know its hard," she said, "But we should keep trying."

"Yeah, you're right."

Hermione helped Katelyn sit up, and rubbed her back as she scribbled in as much as she could remember.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione whispered after a minute of silence.

"It was different from a lot of my dreams," Katelyn said hesitantly, pausing her writing. "I was here in school … I was part of some horrible ritual."

"A ritual? Like … some sort of sacrifice?" Hermione said, slightly aghast.

"No, it was … it was more like they were summoning something."

"Summoning what?"

"There was this great red stone in the centre of the circle … and this horrifying hand came out of it. They tried to push me towards it. That was when my head started to hurt … but you woke me up before anything else could happen."

Hermione's hand on her back had gone still.

"Sorry, did I say something?" she asked gingerly.

"Uh - er - no, no," Hermione said quickly, shaking herself slightly. "It's just an awfully peculiar dream, don't you think?"

"Yeah, really strange. I, uh … I should finish writing."

"Yes, of course," Hermione said, resuming her ministrations.

As she wrote, it finally occurred to Katelyn that she did know of a stone - the one that Hermione and Ron had been discussing. The one that could bring Voldemort back. That made the hand … well, she doubted that he would come crawling out of the stone like a zombie from one of Dudley's computer games … but on the other hand, she couldn't prove that wasn't exactly what would happen. It wasn't as if she had anyone to ask.

Katelyn felt a fresh pang of guilt for having spied on her friends. Well, she hadn't meant to. Hermione had told her that she would be in the library if she needed her, after all. And from there, things had just … happened.

She redoubled her focus before her mind could start replaying the other horrible events of the evening. Though writing about her nightmare was not much better. At least it wasn't real. Hopefully, it would stay that way.

"Okay, done," she said with relief, tossing the journal to the end of the bed. She sank back into the pillows, massaging her temples.

"Do you want to go see Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione asked, watching her closely.

"What time is it?"

"It's only five-thirty."

"Maybe we can lie down for a bit … and if I don't feel better we can go before breakfast?"

Hermione giggled softly.

"Well, all right," she said, lying down beside Katelyn and snuggling up to her. "Just this once."

Though Katelyn's head was still hurting her, she was safe and warm in bed, with her best friend right by her side. Despite the dream, and the headache, and everything else wrong with her life, she was still feeling rather lucky for the moment.

Katelyn drifted in and out of sleep for the next hour, listening to the gentle sounds of Hermione's breathing, and the occasional chirping of birds outside the windows. As their chests slowly rose and fell, a few loose strands of bushy hair would tickle her cheek, but she welcomed the sensation as she drifted into a weary sleep. By the time Hermione woke her, she decided that she had suffered far worse mornings, all things considered.

"How is your head feeling now?" she asked.

"Much better," Katelyn said, though in truth her forehead still felt a bit … sensitive to the touch.

The two got up and began their morning routines. They showered, brushed their teeth (Hermione had to remind Katelyn to floss, as per usual), and changed into their uniforms. They were almost out the door when -

"Oh, Katelyn, wait up a sec!" called Parvati Patil.

They both turned to see her emerging from her bed, still in her pyjamas.

"Er - good morning," Parvati said quickly, before turning and vigorously shaking the frame of Lavender's bed. "Wake up, Brown!"

Parvati came over to them, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The hairs on Katelyn's neck stood up. She could still recall the conversation she overheard last night.

"Hi, Katelyn, Hermione," she continued. "I er … I wanted to apologise for our behaviour this term. I know that Lavender and I haven't always been the kindest … and uh … after what Dumbledore said, I just wanted to say that I shouldn't have been so pushy with you before. I didn't know it was like that."

"Oh," Katelyn murmured as Hermione subtly took her hand. She was surprised to find that she wasn't being overwhelmed with panic, hearing Parvati refer to her attempt. She thought about the conversation she overheard last night … and she tried to empathize with what Parvati and Lavender must have felt like throughout the year. The weird, snobby Katelyn Potter always skulking about, bringing down the mood and making everyone uncomfortable. Showing off in class. Fainting in the middle of the corridor, or going straight to bed the moment classes let out instead of trying to be social.

Despite the many lessons Healer Burch had tried to teach her about her own self-esteem, she was under no illusions about the many possible reasons for her lack of popularity.

"It's okay," she said after a moment, squeezing Hermione's hand, "I was being a right pain, wasn't I, waking you up at night and all that."

"Well, now that I know the circumstances, I think it's quite forgivable. And Hermione … about the hair … "

"Oh, right, that. It seems like such a long time ago, doesn't it? It was funny, I think, now that some time has passed."

Parvati gave them both a smile of relief, before turning over her shoulder.

"Lavender, _get up!"_ she called out in frustration.

" … coming … "

The three watched as a grouchy Lavender Brown finally emerged from her four-poster, yawning and stretching as she joined the group. Parvati nudged her arm conspicuously.

"Oh, right," Lavender said, blinking thickly. "I'm sorry that we were being gits. We thought we were just having a laugh, all that teasing. We didn't really mean anything by it."

It was perhaps not the most eloquent thing she'd ever heard, but Lavender did look guilty, squirming slightly as the rest of the girls watched her.

"Well, it's a start," Parvati said, rolling her eyes.

"It's okay," said Katelyn, eager to be done with the apologies. "I get it."

"So uh … friends?" Parvati asked, looking slightly sheepish as she offered her hand. "Or cordial acquaintances at least?"

"Friends is okay," Katelyn said, gently taking her hand and shaking. The smile of relief on Parvati's face helped put her nerves at ease.

' _Not such a bad morning after all,'_ she told herself as they went down to the common room. It was a small surprise not to find Ron waiting for them, but it was still early. It's not as if he was obligated to meet them every morning.

"Well … shall we wait for Ron?" Hermione asked gingerly. "Or, uh - I'm sure he'll understand if you don't want to linger … "

"No, it's okay, we'll wait," Katelyn said determinedly. She had been avoiding the common room like the plague for days now, and it would be a nice thing to do for Ron.

She followed Hermione over to their usual study table. It was worn, and slightly wobbly, but it was also about as secluded as you could get in the Gryffindor common room, tucked away, against the back wall between some dusty bookshelves.

So they sat, watching, waiting. Hermione began reading a book that she'd picked out a few days ago, titled " _Flabbergasted: True Tales of Gremlinkind"_. Katelyn tried to read along with her, but was more concerned with just staying calm as her fellow Gryffindors began slowly tricking into the room. She kept her eyes fixed on the pages, not really seeing the words, trying not to notice how many people looked her way as they passed by.

A minute later, Oliver Wood came down the steps, chatting with one of his year mates, a boy she had never learned the name of. She saw Oliver whisper something, and his friend went on without him.

"Hi Katelyn, Hermione," he said, looking cheerful and alert. "Don't often see you two here in the morning. How are you?"

"A bit of a headache," Katelyn said with a shrug. "But I'm doing okay. We're just waiting for Ron. How are you?"

"Peachy, thanks. Do you want me to check on him for you?"

"No, that's alright. It's still early. We'll let him sleep in a bit more."

Oliver sighed, and sat down opposite them.

"I uh … I wanted to talk about something else too. I was going to bring it up at practice but I didn't want to overwhelm you. I dunno, maybe I should have. Did anyone tell you three that Dumbledore told the school what happened? At breakfast yesterday. I noticed you all left right before he started."

She shrugged again as her stomach began to twist. Hermione answered for her.

"Well, he never did tell us exactly what he was going to talk about," she said slowly. "But he did warn us. We just assumed it would be a lot of unwanted attention, so we didn't want to hang around."

"Oh, good. I was hoping as much. Well, he never mentioned you by name, but I reckon everyone knew it was about you. He just said that some parts of the rumours were true. He said that it was really serious, and that anyone making fun of it … or uh, you, rather … would be in major trouble. Then he talked for a bit about helping each other, and reaching out. That it was important to talk to your friends and teachers and, well … you get the idea. It was … actually pretty moving, I thought."

"That doesn't sound too bad, does it?" Hermione said, softly pressing a hand to her back.

"I guess not," she said noncommittally.

"But you're alright?"

" ... I think so. It's … it's a lot right now, you know?"

"Not what it's like to be in your shoes, Katelyn. I suppose you're probably getting sick of me worrying after you, but I just wanted to check in on you," Oliver concluded with a slight smile, getting to his feet. "Let me know if you ever need to talk. I'll see you around."

Hermione gave her a look once he was gone.

"What?" she asked, feeling a bit insecure.

"Well, I just think it's very nice that Oliver is looking after you, don't you think?"

"I … yes, it is I guess … " she said with a slight blush. "The attention makes me nervous, is all. He was like this before practice too."

She was once again reminded that the whole school might very well be paying her more attention, now that Dumbledore had confirmed the rumours were true, and her insides began to squirm with renewed vigour.

"Oh," Hermione said, watching Katelyn's frown grow. "Do you want me to talk to him for you?"

"Er, no … I'll say something to him if it ever starts to bother me. But thanks."

Hermione gave her a gentle hug about the side before she returned to her reading. Katelyn tried to follow along but her attention span had not improved. It wasn't long before Parvati and Lavender came down the steps, their hair damp and bookbags slung over their shoulders.

"Waiting for Ron?" Parvati asked as the two approached. She seemed ever-so-slightly nervous, which was odd for a girl that normally looked the picture of confidence. Lavender seemed indifferent, or half asleep, or perhaps both.

"Yes, it seems he's slept in today," Hermione said, looking up from the book. "Not that there's anything wrong with that of course. We don't mind."

"I'm actually quite impressed that he's been waking up so early for so long. I remember the first few months, it seemed like the only thing that would get him out of bed was his stomach."

Katelyn tried to smile as the other girls shared a polite laugh.

"Well, see you later," said Parvati, taking the opportunity to gracefully exit the conversation. Katelyn thought she made it seem far too easy.

Not a minute later, Katelyn had entirely abandoned any hope of reading. She was wondering who they might see next when Neville somewhat frantically descended the stairs and look about the room, until he locked eyes with her and scurried over.

"Hello Neville," Hermione said politely, while Katelyn nodded, trying to seem friendly.

"G-good uh … good m-morning," he said, nervously averting his eyes. "Ron asked me to find you. He slept in by mistake. I uh … I woke him up."

The timid boy took a quick glance at them, seemingly a bit proud of himself for this.

"He says that he'll be down soon, but you can go without him."

"Well, that was very kind of you, Neville," Hermione said encouragingly, before turning to Katelyn. "What do you think?"

She took a deep breath.

"We can wait," she said, trying not to sound calm.

Hermione smiled brightly at her, turning back to Neville.

"You're welcome to wait with us if you'd like, Neville. You can join us for breakfast."

He seemed terribly frightened by the idea, by he seemed to force himself to agree.

"Sure," he said, awkwardly clambering into the seat next to Hermione.

Katelyn noticed that, after another minute had passed, Neville still seemed on edge. She saw Hermione look up from her reading, and give him a glance as well.

"Are you alright, Neville?" Hermione asked.

His eyes went wide.

"Uh - er, yes! Fine! Nothing's wrong!" he squeaked.

"You're not nervous because of me, are you?" Katelyn asked.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, like a fish trapped out of water.

"It's okay," she insisted. "I'd probably be too. But I don't have any reason to be upset with you. Honest."

"It's just … " he mumbled, "about the … "

"Oh … well. I don't think anyone really knows what to do about that."

"It's uncharted territory," Hermione agreed. "For all of us."

"But, honest, you can sit with us," Katelyn insisted.

Neville seemed to relax, and a few moments later Ron finally came down, looking a bit ragged.

"So sorry," he said, "Don't know what's gotten into me. Er - thanks again, 'Nev."

The three rose to their feet, and Katelyn gave Ron a quick hug.

"No, it's okay, really," she said, smiling at him as they parted. "You don't need to feel bad for sleeping in. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, just tired. Stayed up a bit too late finishing my homework," he said easily. "Breakfast?"

"I was just about to ask," Hermione said with a giggle, before beckoning Neville to follow them, "Let's go before we run out of time."

Katelyn was mindful to try and seem less nervous than she felt in Neville's company. The thought that she intimidated him was a struggle to wrap her head around. Not how odd it was that she could possibly frighten someone, but what she could do to make him feel more at ease.

As they walked and talked, she let her friends carry the conversation, deep in thought. She worried all the way down to the Great Hall, where she had to suffer nearly as many stares as the day before. The march to their seats was not as terrible as it was yesterday, true, but it was still terrible. She noticed Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore watching her from the head table, and gave them a meagre little wave before taking her seat.

She watched Ron eagerly grabbing all of his favourite foods from the platters and trays around the table, while Hermione politely served herself some oatmeal and pieces of fruit. Even Neville was not shy about spearing sausages, piling them atop his beans and toast before reaching for the pitcher of orange juice.

Katelyn sighed, eyes drifting across the table for the umpteenth time and hoping that something other than mash would catch her eye, as her empty plate continued to glare back at her.

"What I pick some things for you?" Hermione suggested, always conscious of her struggle. "Maybe having them on your plate will help."

"It's worth a try," offered Ron between bites. "Not a bad idea, 'mione."

"Uh … sure, please," Katelyn said. "Thanks."

"Is something wrong?" Neville asked, catching on to her look of embarrassment as Hermione began reaching about the table, neatly forking different foods onto Katelyn's plate. "Are you ill?"

"It's nothing, Neville," she said, averting her eyes. "I just … I have a poor appetite sometimes."

"Oh, me too!" he said innocently. "I always have a hard time eating when I'm nervous. Uncle Algie says I have a weak constitution, but I'm not sure what that means exactly."

She was spared further discussion when she spotted the Weasley twins approaching on the opposite side of the table.

"Hi Fred, George," she said as they sat down, already feeling better for her growing little bubble of friendship, as though the more familiar people she surrounded herself with, the more she might be protected from anyone gossiping or staring.

"Good morning, milady!" they chorused, with a slight bow that made Katelyn blush and smile self consciously.

"Hope you don't mind if we join you," said Fred.

"Lee is proper cross with us," said George.

"Aw, what have you done to the poor bloke this time?" asked Ron.

"We recently came into possession of accursed knowledge!" George said with theatrical flair, waggling his fingers in the air. "And Lee was overcome with rage when he failed in his attempts to learn our dark secrets!"

"Ancient muggle magic!" cried Fred, as he pulled the corner of his robes in front of his face and swished them around.

"I thought muggles don't have magic," said Hermione, who looked as though she was trying quite hard not to smile at the duo but couldn't help herself. "Isn't that the entire point?"

"Nonsense!"

"Ignore this non-believer!"

"How about you, Neville?" Fred asked, dialling back the theatrics just a hair. "Ever seen any muggle magic?"

"Not really, no," he said, unconsciously inching away from them.

"Then would you do the honour of being our humble assistant?" Fred said with a wolfish smile. Katelyn caught George's eye and he winked at her.

"It's not going to hurt, is it?" Neville asked slowly.

"Not one bit!" said George.

"And you'll find it's far less permanent," said Fred.

"Much easier to clean up."

"Clean up?" said Neville. "Wait, what do you mean clean up?"

"Observe, our first trick!"

Before Neville could get another word in, Fred snatched his hand towards Neville's face and withdrew it again just as quickly.

"Dabra Kadee, Dabra Kadob!" cried Fred. "Look at me, 'cus I've got yer gob!"

Neville looked in horror to see Fred's thumb pinched between his index and middle fingers, held aloft. He gasped, horrified, before clutching at his face to find that his nose was right where he had left it. Everyone burst into laughter. Even Neville joined in after a moment.

"That's a good lad!" Fred chuckled, giving him a pat on the back.

Katelyn watched Neville for a moment, and it seemed that his laughter was a bit put-on, as though he was really just trying to hide his embarrassment.

"Don't worry, Neville," she said, leaning in slightly to catch his eye as the twins began to demonstrate their next trick. "Being a little gullible isn't so bad. It just means that you're very trusting. That's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Oh, I suppose if you look at it that way," he said, cracking a smile as he thought it over. "Thanks, Katelyn."

"Don't mention it."

It was not long before Katelyn was feeling a good deal better about herself. Fred and George had moved on with their act, and were now teaching a trick that made it appear that you were pulling the tip of your thumb off. Neville was grinning from ear to ear, and he laughed along with the twins, who started teasing him once more because his thumbs couldn't quite bend enough to make the trick work.

"C'mon Nev', you've gotta want it!" Fred was cheering, as though he were coaching him in sport, while George was pretending to pound his fists on the table in excitement.

"Katelyn," Hermione said a bit later, leaning in to whisper. "I hate to bring the mood down but, er … "

She glanced down. In the commotion, she had yet to touch her plate.

"Oh, right," she sighed. "Sorry, I honestly forgot."

"It's alright," Hermione said, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze. "I'm just worried it might go cold soon."

Katelyn nodded her agreement, dutifully scooping a few bites of egg into her mouth. It was a little easier, she thought, when she had a proper distraction from her worries. The twins wrapped up their performance with a bow and a little bout of applause from their audience. Even Hermione reluctantly agreed that it was impressive, particularly their skill with sleight of hand. Ron told them that his brothers spent more time practising tricks and pranks than studying, which Katelyn thought sounded about right.

The next distraction came with the morning post, which had diminished quite a bit in volume as the year progressed. Katelyn, try as she might, couldn't help but keep an eye on the owls as they gracefully swooped into the Great Hall each morning, wondering what kind of gifts or letters parents might want to be sending their children. What they would say to each other.

Because of this, Katelyn was quick to notice that this particular morning, there was an absolute storm of owls suddenly flooding into the hall. Perhaps more than she had ever seen before. As they made their deliveries, she also noticed that the din of casual chatter grew more frantic. And, suddenly, heads were turning her way again.

It seemed that Hermione and Ron were beginning to catch on as well, as they started looking about while Katelyn's arms broke out in goosebumps.

Hermione was about to say something when a large barn owl swooped by, and dropped a paper atop Neville's plate.

"That's odd," he said innocently, picking the paper up and inspecting it. "I don't normally get the Prophet. Nan always says … "

He trailed off, his eyes going wide, before he looked up, right at Katelyn, his jaw going slack.

"What?" Hermione said tensely.

"Uh oh," he said faintly, before Hermione reached out and snatched the paper from his hands.

Despite the sick feeling in her stomach, Katelyn couldn't help but look. Before her eyes, spread across the entirety of the front page in the biggest, blackest, boldest print she had ever seen, were the words:

" _ **KATELYN POTTER, WIZARDING HERO: HER SECRET SUICIDE ATTEMPT REVEALED! Dumbledore behind coverup?"**_

The weight of it hit her like a train, as though she had been punched by a fist the size of Hagrid's hut. She might have heard the fork in her hand clatter across the table and onto the floor.

"Oh no," someone said near her. "Katelyn. Katelyn, are you alright?"

She couldn't answer. She couldn't move. She didn't even know where she was anymore. The pressure was building inside of her, as if she might explode at any moment.

"Oh God, she's not breathing. Ron, help me!"

She heard, felt, her pulse throbbing through her head, in her ears and behind her eyes. She was burning up, her face was on fire and her chest was made of lead. Her vision was blurring, fading in and out. In the distance - it felt like miles away, it sounded like someone was frantically digging through a bag.

"I've got it!"

Suddenly a vial was being pressed against her lips.

"Drink - drink this, Katelyn. Katelyn, you have to drink the potion! You're gonna be okay!"

She only managed to comply as she realized that it was Hermione's voice beseeching her - she cracked her lips open and let the noxious, sappy liquid pour into her mouth, into her throat - it spilt down her chin and into her lap as her entire body shuddered at the taste, but she swallowed a small gulp - and then another, and another after that.

Slowly, yet suddenly, a heavy cloud of fog began to swirl around in her mind, weighing her body and her thoughts down, as she drank more and more of the horrible potion. She felt her lungs open once more and sucked in a great, ragged breath before a few flecks of the potion entered the wrong part of her throat and she was forced to cough. Again, and again, as her mind felt heavier and heavier, while her chest became lighter and lighter.

Someone was rubbing her back.

"Do you feel better?" Ron asked gingerly.

"I … I want to go … " she heard herself whimper.

"Of course," said Hermione, gently wiping Katelyn's chin with a napkin. "Why don't we go visit Madam Pomfrey for a bit, until you feel better?"

"Fine," she pouted stupidly.

She felt a distant pang of embarrassment as she was being helped to her feet, when she noticed Neville's horrified expression,

"Sorry," she mumbled sheepishly.

"Don't be sorry," Ron said kindly. "You're doing great."

Katelyn didn't have the strength to explain.

They were halfway to the Hospital Wing before Katelyn noticed that Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore had joined them - she could hear them conversing in low voices at the back of the group. She wished she could feel more embarrassed, or she thought she did.

Madam Pomfrey sprang to attention the moment she saw Katelyn Potter and company step through the door.

"Oh dear, what's happened this time, Ms Potter?" she said calmly bending down to scrutinize her.

"I don't feel good," she said meekly, her own voice disembodied, floating away from her as she spoke. "Can I lie down please?"

"Of course, of course," she said, and several people helped her up and into the nearest bed.

She curled up the moment her head touched the pillow, wanting desperately to fall asleep, feeling anything but tired. Her chest slowly rising and falling with empty sobs as her world blurred in an out of focus.

* * *

It was late in the evening. The hospital wing was lit by torches and the faint, pale glow of a sun that had already set. Hermione was sitting with Ron at Katelyn's bedside. It was all far too familiar. The strained, weary quiet. The air full of unasked and unanswered questions. They'd skipped lessons for the day, opting to keep their friend company when she so clearly needed it.

Katelyn had barely spoken a word since returning from her visit with the mind healer earlier in the afternoon. She'd been calmer, sure, but just as miserable. It was something they had rarely seen - Katelyn just outright depressed, and not trying to hide it any longer. All thanks to that dreadful story in the Daily Prophet.

Hermione had read the sensationalized publication in its entirety after Katelyn had first fallen asleep. There had been wild, unfounded claims, and baseless speculation. Endless hyperbole and accusations levelled in every direction. However, there had been frightening glimpses of truth as well.

The writer, one _Rita Skeeter_ , had even suggested the possibility that Katelyn was being mistreated by her muggle relatives, and had speculated about the circumstances that led to them acting as her guardians in the first place. She'd boldly claimed that Dumbledore had failed in his duties as Headmaster of Hogwarts, though perhaps it wasn't entirely untrue.

The only saving grace was that the article had been nothing but sympathetic, if not overbearingly so, towards Katelyn. Making her out to be some wretched, pitiful child struggling to live up to the reputations of her beloved parents. Not that there wasn't some truth to that as well.

No matter the brush with which it was painted, the article was the last thing Katelyn needed at such a fragile time in her life.

She looked to Ron, who gave her a small smile of sympathy and understanding as he reached over and gently squeezed her shoulder. She nodded back, grateful for his support, now and throughout the many months of friendship they'd shared with Katelyn.

There were seldom times when Hermione allowed any self-pity. Sure, many things troubled her. Almost nightly, she thought back to when she chose to skip her grandmother's funeral to stay by Katelyn's side after she had attempted suicide, those many weeks ago. Her parents told her not to feel guilty. That it had been an impossible choice to make and that there was no right decision.

But sometimes she wondered. She wondered if Katelyn would have noticed if she had come to her a day later. She hadn't even wanted to see her, at first.

It wasn't always easy to be Katelyn's friend. It took a lot of energy to be supportive, attentive, caring, at all hours of the day, while still looking after herself as well. In fact, sometimes it was quite difficult. But Hermione didn't pity herself at all, because, as she'd come to realize in the last few weeks: it was all worth it.

There was something about Katelyn Potter. Something special. No matter the hardships, Hermione knew that she would do it again in a heartbeat. How incredible it was to care about someone like they were your own family, and feel that same care in return. Just seeing Katelyn smile, those rare moments where she could truly be herself, and be happy. Well, that didn't make it okay, everything that they were going through together ... But it certainly made it worth it to be there for her.

It was such a shame that they weren't out of the woods yet. It felt like ages since Hermione's worries had been strictly academic, the way she preferred it.

"You alright?" Ron asked under his breath, shooting her another sympathetic look.

"Oh, yes … I'm fine, I suppose," she said slowly. "I'm just thinking about how much as changed … and how unfair it is that she has to go through all this when she's already suffered enough for ten lifetimes. It finally seemed like things would be okay."

Ron nodded sadly.

"But she'll be alright," he said without a hint of doubt. "She's got us now. And Dumbledore and McGonagall, Oliver, my brothers and … can you keep a secret?"

"Besides the load of secrets we're already keeping?" she couldn't help reply.

"Well, yeah. But I mean, it's for the best, isn't it?"

"I know, you're right … and yes, I suppose I can keep one more."

"Do you, er, remember the meeting with Dumbledore I had Sunday night?"

"I remember that you went to meet him, but you never did say what it was for."

"He's asked my mum if Katelyn can stay us with this summer."

She could barely contain a small squeal of excitement as she twisted around in her chair to hug him.

"Oh that's wonderful Ron!" she said into his shoulder, reminding herself to keep her voice low. "Or, I uh, I mean, has she answered him yet?"

"Well, it sounds like they've been owling back and forth loads, but I can promise she said yes."

"You can?"

Ron made a little snort of laughter.

"I wrote her _one_ letter a month before Christmas because Percy made me. I put in a little bit about 'my new friend Katelyn Potter'. I only said she was a bit shy, kept to herself mostly. Remember how she told us that her aunt and uncle didn't do gifts?"

She nodded, frowning at the memory.

"Well, I mentioned that since I thought it was so odd, and Mum went and knit her a sweater, just like that. Owled it to her for Christmas."

She could see him smiling fondly in recollection of the memory. She cracked a little smile of her own, remembering the many times she'd seen Katelyn wearing that very same emerald green sweater, with a big golden K across the front.

"That's so wonderful, Ron. Oh, it's going to be so lovely for Katelyn to stay with a proper, loving family. And a wizarding family, no less."

"Sometimes it's a bit of a madhouse, honestly," Ron said with a shrug, still smiling. "But if anyone can take care of her, I reckon mum and dad can. And we'll be there to look after her, of course. Me and all my brothers, and Ginny I expect will be over the moon to meet her."

"Oh, your sister, right? I suppose she'll have heard of Katelyn, being magical," she thought aloud.

"Yeah, you should have seen her when she heard the Famous Katelyn Potter was on board the express. Mental, I tell you."

She moved to playfully bat him on the arm, but had so little energy that it felt more like a friendly pat of sympathy. She was too tired to even chide him for teasing his sister.

"I wonder if mum and dad will tell her," Ron wondered aloud.

"Tell her … about … "

"Yeah. I keep imagining how mum and dad would have looked like when they read it. And poor Gin. If they tell her …"

She nodded, staring at her lap.

"It must be so horrible."

As they lapsed into silence once more, her mind began to wander. She wondered what Katelyn might have discussed with Healer Burch. If she would have been able to articulate all of the things she was feeling, and thinking. Katelyn had barely spoken a word when McGonagall collected her to apparate down to London for their appointment. She'd been silent after returning. Hermione wondered if therapy would be enough.

"You're still here," came the faint, raspy voice of Katelyn Potter, into the heavy silence of the night. Her tone was somewhere between question and statement.

Hermione turned to see her friend, still curled up into a ball, half asleep, looking absolutely miserable.

"Of course we are," said Ron, "But if you want to be alone, we can go."

They both saw her brow furrow slightly, as she thought it over. A moment later, she shrugged. It seemed like if it were possible to sink any further into the sheets, to just melt into the fabric itself and disappear, she might have.

"We'll stay, then," said Ron.

"Okay," Katelyn murmured. Her slender fingers tightened against at the sheets for a moment before relaxing again.

"How do you feel?" Hermione prodded gently. "Do you need anything?"

"No. I hate being me."

"I can't even begin to imagine how awful it must be. I'm so sorry, Katelyn."

Katelyn was silent for a long moment.

"But I still have you."

Hermione was surprised when tears suddenly welled up in her eyes. She thought she might have heard just the slightest hint of doubt behind Katelyn's voice, as quiet and meagre as it was.

"You do," she said with a sombre smile. "You have us. We're not going anywhere, promise."

"And it'll be okay, eventually," said Ron. "It might take time, but we'll just take it day by day."

Katelyn sniffled. Hermione could see a hint of a tear glinting down her face in the torchlight.

"Thanks … thanks for being my friends."

She couldn't help but share a melancholy smile with Ron.

"Don't mention it," she said, dabbing at her cheek with the sleeve of her jumper.

Hermione wouldn't change it for the world. Well ... some things they could do without. But right now - she couldn't imagine spending her evening doing anything other than sitting with Ron at Katelyn's side.


End file.
